* 


/J 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS  ; 

BY  SUSANNA  ROWSON, 

PRECEPTRESS  OF  THE    LADIES9  ACADEMT^  HEWtON,   MASS. 


AUTHOR    OF 


CH  ARLOTTE,  INOJJISITOR,  REUBEN  AND 
RACHEL,  8cc.  &ci  "  " 


*'  I  MUST  REMAIN  ACCOUNTABLE  FOR  ALL  MY  FAULTS, 
AND  SUBMIT,  WITHOUT  SUBTERFUGE,  TO  THE  CENSURES  OF 
CRITICISM,  WHICH  I  SHALL  NOT  HOWEVER  ENDEAVOUR  TO 
SOFTEN  BY  A  FORMAL  DEPRECATION." 

"  THE  SUPPLICATIONS  OF  AN  AUTHOR  NEVER  YET  RE 
PRIEVED  HIM  A.  MOMENT  FROM  OBLIVION.'* 

RAMBLER. 


PRINTED  FOR  THE  AUTHOR,  BY  GILBERT  AND 

STATE-STREET,  SOLD  BY  THEM, 
AND  BY  W.  P.  AND  L.  RLAKE,  CORNHILL, 

.— «1804. 


..** 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


.RS.  Lucy  Abbot,    Hallowell. 

..    Mehitable  Acres,      Brookline. 

..    Hannah  Andrews,      Ipswich. 
Miss  Henrietta  M.  Anthony,  Newburyport. 

;.    Elizabeth  Atherton,  Amherst,  N.  H. 
Mr.  E.  W.  Allen,  Newburyport. 

..    James  T.  Austin,      Cambridge,     2  copiea. 

,.    Samuel  Abbot,          Boston,    3  copies. 

..    JohnS.  Abbot,          Salem. 


Boston. 

Ipswich. 

Medford. 

Boston. 

Charlestown. 

Brookline. 

Watertown. 

Newburyport. 


Mrs.  Josiah  Bradlee, 
,  ..    Mary  Baker, 

..     Lydia  Bishop, 
Miss  L.  Bingham. 

..     Sally  Barker, 

.,•   Rebecca  Boylston, 

••     Mary  Binney, 

..     Mary  Brown, 

..     Hannah  Bartlett  d«. 

..     Sarah  B.  Burgess,   Wobourn,    3  copies, 

..    Mary  Barnum,          Taunton. 

..    "Eliza  Buffington,       Salem. 

..     AnnBethune,]          Watertown. 
Mr.  Merrill  Butler,        Newburyport. 

..     Abner  Bartlett,        Wobourn, 

..   William  S.  Brooks,  Medford. 

..    John  Brooks,  jun.        do. 

..    Horace  Binney,         Philadelphia. 

..    Robert  Brookhouse,  Salem. 
Capt.  Isaac  Brooks,         Medford, 


IV 


Mi*.  Charles  Baring-, 

Miss  Lydia  Bond, 
..  Betsy  Baley, 
..  Sarah  T.  Brazer, 

Benjamin  Bussey,  Esq. 

Shubael  Bell,  Esq. 

Benjamin  Bourne,  Esq. 

Mr.  Joseph  Balestie, 
..     Caleb  Butler, 
..     Isaac  Bigl  nv, 
..    Ebenezer  Bracket, 

Mrs.  Getting1, 

Miss  Mary  Carleton, 
Abigail  Chapin, 
..      Nancy  Christy, 
..     Sarah  Cog-swell, 


Charleston,  S.  C.    5  copies. 

Watertown. 

Boston. 

Groton. 

Boston. 

do. 

do. 

do. 

Groton. 
Newton. 
Needham  Falls . 

Boston. 
Wiscassett. 
Orange. 

St.  Stephens,  New  Brunswick. 
Ipswich . 


..    Mehitable  Chandler,  Andover. 
..     Lydia  Combs,  Newburyport. 

,.     Sarah  Curtis,  Newton. 

..    Anna  Maria  Carnes,  Boston. 
Lydia  Cool idge,         Boston. 
Mr.  Samuel  Clark,  Cambridge. 

..    Joseph  Cogswell,       Ipswich. 
„     J.  Cobourri,  Boston. 

«     Samuel  Clark,  Newton. 

..     T.  dishing-,  Cambridge* 

..    Joseph  Cutler,  jun.  Newburyport. 
..     Joseph  Cooper,  do. 

..     Apollos  Cushman,    Taunton. 
..     William  S.  Carnes, _Salem. 
,.     Kneeland  Carrier,      Needham  Falls. 
..   Matthew  Gary,          Philadelphia,     10  copies, 

Mrs.  William  Davis,         Boston. 
Miss  Maria  Dall,  Boston. 

.,     Ann  Duncan,  Concord, 


Rev.  Simeon  Doggett,  Taunton. 

Mrs.  Anna  Dana,  Amherst,  N,  H, 

Thomas  Dean,  Boston. 

Miss  Mary  Davis,  Boston. 
..    Mary  Ann  Davis,          do. 

Mr.  George  Dean,  Salem. 

..     Aaron  Davis,  Newburyport, 

..    Samuel  Dana,  Groton. 


Miss  Sarah  Eaton, 
Mr.  Ephraim  Elles, 


Dedham. 
Needham  Falls. 


Miss  Lydia  French, 
..     Sally  Fisher, 
.,     Sally  Fitch, 
..     Susannah  Farley, 
..     Susan  Farley, 
..     Harriet  Fowle, 
••     Maria  Fowle, 

Mr.  Samuel  Foster, 
..     Jabez  Farley, 
..     Joseph  Francis, 
..     Farley, 


Canton. 

do. 

New  Haven. 
Ipswich. 

do. 
Watertown, 

do. 

Boston. 
Ipswich. 
Boston, 
Charlestown, 


Mrs.  W.  H.  Gibbs, 

..     Mary  Gray, 

..     Samuel  Gilbert, 
Miss  Jemima  Giles, 

..     Hannah  Goddard 

..     Eliza  Gibbs, 
Mr.  Joseph  Gardner, 

..     Lemuel  P.  Grosvenor,    do. 

..     DavidS.  Greenough,  jun. 

..     Win  Gamage,  jun. 


Charleston,  S.  Carolina, 
Boston. 

do. 

Newburyport. 
Brookline. 
Charleston,  S.  C. 
.  Boston. 


Cambridge. 
do. 


Miss  Rebecca  Hastings,  Newton,  3  copies, 

Col.  David  Humphreys,   Boston,        2  copies, 
o 

A  * 


VI 


3 


Mrs.  Hannah  Hale,  Boston. 

..     Hyslop,  Brookiine, 

..     Has  well,  Charlestown. 

Miss  Caroline  Hatchings,  Boston. 

..    ElizabetU^Hodgkins,       do. 

..     Eliza  Heard,  Ipswich. 

..     Abigail  Hodgkins,  do. 

,.     Hannah  Heath,  Brookiine. 

..     Mary  Heard,  Woburn. 

John  Heard,  jun.  Esq.  Boston. 
Maj.  Gen.  Wm  Hull,  Newton/ 
Rev.  Jonathan  Homer,  do. 

Maj.  Charles  Hunt,  Boston. 

Dr.  Sam'l  Hemenway,       Salem. 
Mr.  Herman  Holmes,      Roxbury. 

•.     David  Hyslop,  Brookiine, 

«.     Charles  Hastings,      Newton. 

..    John  Harrington,        Weston. 

..     John  Howe,  Boston. 

..     Washington  Hovey,  Newburyport 

,.    Edward  Horsman,    Boston. 


2  copies. 


Mrs.  Lydia  Ingals, 
The  Miss  Inches, 

Mrs.  Betsey  Jenkins, 
Miss  Sarah  Johnson, 
,.     B.  S.  Jackson, 
,.     Frances  Johnson, 
,.     Caroline  Jackson, 
,.     Rebecca  B.  Jones, 
Mr.  Charles  Jackson, 
..    Epliraim  Jackson, 

Miss  Eunice  Kennj', 
Mr.  Samuel  Bidder, 


Boston, 
do. 


2  copies. 


Newburyport. 
do. 

Newton. 
Utica,  N.  York. 
Little  Cambridge. 
Charlestown, 
Needham  Falls. 
Newton. 

Canton. 

Charlestown. 


vu 


Mrs.  Martha  Kendall,     Ipswich. 
Miss  Mary  Kendall,  do. 

..     Anna  Kenrick,         Newlon. 


Mrs.  Mary  Le  Bosquet,  Medford. 

Miss  Linzee,  Boston,  2  copies. 

,.     Elizabeth  Loving,        do. 

..     Harriet  Livermore,     do. 

..     Sarah  Lang,  Salem. 

Messrs.  B.  &J.  Loring,  Boston.  6  copies. 
Mr.  Conway  Lane,  do. 

..     Luther  Laurence,     Groton. 

Miss  Jane  Means,  Amherst, 

..    Jane  Melvill,  Boston. 

..     Sarah  Manning,  Ipswich, 

..     Pricilla  Manning,         do. 

..     Eliza  M'Kean,  Boston. 
Israel  Munroe,  Esq.  do. 

Mr.  Joseph  A.  Marshall,  Groton. 

Mr.  Isaac  Needham,        Salem, 
..    John  Naphe,  Needham  Falls. 

Miss  Mary  Oakman,        Woburn. 
Mr.  Billings  Otis,  Boston. 

Mrs.  Eliza  Peirce,  Salem. 

..    Elizabeth  Peirce  do. 

Miss  Sarah  H.  Padleford,  Taunton.        2  copies 

..     Melinda  Padelford,         do.  do. 

.,     Elizabeth  Procter,      Salem. 

..     Parker,  Boston. 

Mary  Ann  Perkins,       do. 
Mr  Edward  Proctor,  jun.  Boston. 

..    John  Pickens,jun.          do. 

..     Charles  Parkman,        Westborough , 

'•     John  H,  Payne,  Boston. 


Vlll 


Miss  Eliza  Price,  Hopkington. 

..     Lydia  Page,  Charlestown. 

..     Susan  Price,  Jamaica. 

..     Eliza  Parker,  Boston. 

Robert  T.  Paine,  jun.  Esq.  Boston. 


Charles  Paine,  Esq. 
Mr.  Henry  Paine, 

..    John  Perry, 

..     Benjamin  Plasted, 

,.    John  Peirce, 

..    Pike, 

Ann  Quincy, 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rogers, 
..     James  Robinson,  jun. 
Samuel  Richardson, 
,.     Sarah  Rice, 
..     Hannah  Reed, 

Miss  Fanny  Ruggles, 
..     Abigail  Ransford, 
..     Martha  Robbins, 
..     Susan  B.  Richardson, 

Luther  Richardson,  Esq. 

Mr.  Enoch  H.  Rust, 

Mrs.  Rebecca  Sprague, 
..     Hannah  Spring, 
..     Lucy  Stuart, 

Miss  Margaret  S.  Spring, 
..     Sarah  Smith, 
..     Rebecca  Sweet, 
,.     Sarah  Stocker, 
..     Dolly  Stickney, 
..     Abigail  Stone, 

Mr.  Daniel  Swan, 

Samuel  Swan,  jun.  Esq. 


5  copies. 


do. 

do. 

do. 

Needham  Falls. 
Brookline. 
Newburyport. 

Boston. 

Ipswich. 
Lynn. 
Boston 
Taunton. 

do. 
Boston. 

do. 

Watertown, 
Boston. 

do. 
Wiscasset. 

Boston.        4  copie*. 
Watertown. 
Medford. 
Newburyport. 

do/ 

do. 

do. 

do. 

Watertown. 
Medford. 

do,        2  copies. 


t 


Mrs.  Lydia  Smith, 

..     Nancy  Sproat, 

..     Stearns, 
Miss  Mary  Smith 
Messrs.  Stone  &  Brewer, 
Mr.  Leverett  SaltonstaU, 

..     William  Stacker, 

..     Samuel  Sprague,  jun. 

..    George  W.  Steam?, 

..    Ropert  Small, 

..    Luther  Smith, 

..    James  Sprague, 
Thomas  O.  Selfridge,  Esq. 
Maj.  Joseph  Swasey, 


Boston, 
Taunton. 
Watertown. 
Charlestown. 
Salem. 

do. 
Boston. 

do. 

Brookline. 
Newton. 
Needham  Fall*, 

Boston. 

do. 
Ipswich, 


Mrs.  Z.  C.  Tilden,  Boston. 
Miss  Sarah  Thompson,  do. 

..     Peggy  Tufts,  Newton. 

..     Sarah  Thompson,  Newburyport. 

Mr.  Tench  T 1 1^ : . m r  n ,  Cambridge » 

..     Gustavus  1  uckerman,  Boston. 

,.    Benjamin  Thompson,  jun.  do. 
William  Thurston,  Esq.  do. 

Miss  Hannah  Vincent,  Dorchester. 

..     Sarah  Elliot  Vaughan,  Portland. 


Mrs.  Wiggin, 

Boston. 

Miss  Margaret  Whall, 

do. 

..     Elizabeth  B.  Willis, 

Haverhill,  M. 

..     Sally  Wheelock, 

Westborough 

,.     Eliza  Wildes, 

Kennebunk. 

..     Eliza  West, 

Salem. 

..     Harriot  Ward, 

Shrewsbury. 

..     Hannah  Whittemore, 

Cambridge, 

,.     Ann  White, 

Brookline, 

..     Sarah  S.  Winchester, 

do, 

I 


IVliss  Susan  White,  Newburyport, 

..    Susan  Wyman,  Salem. 

..    Mary  S.  Warner,  Taunton, 

Mr.  Philip  Wentworth,         Boston. 

..     Alexander  Wentworth,     do. 

..     Jeremiah  Wheelwright,  Newhuryport- 

..     John  M.  Williams,         Taunton. 

..     Elnathan  Walker,  do. 

..    Elbridge  Ware,  Newton,    2  copies. 

..     Aaron  Williard,  Roxbury. 

,,    J.  Waters,jun.  Boston. 

..    Isaac  Waters,  do. 

Messrs.  Wilder  &  Fletcher,    do.        6  copies. 
Wells  &  Webb,  do.        6  copies. 


ERRATA. 

?*£C  21st— last  line  but  one,  for  catch,  read  catches. 

—  26th— 3d  line  from  the  bottom,  for  shotst,  read  shot'st . 

2d  line  from  do.  tor  brightenst  read  brighterfst. 

—  38th— 6th  line,  for  End,  read  And. 

—  40th — 7th  line,  for  burst,  read  bursts. 

—  83d — 1st  line,  for  wast,  read  tvert. 

—  90th — 4th  line  from  bottom,  for  but,  read  bid. 

—  93d — 6th  line  from  do.  for  cheek,  read  sweet . 

— -  120th — 1st  line,  for  fells,  read  falls  ,•  and  for  pelteringt 
pattering. 

—  125th— 3d  line  from  bottom,  for  E'en,  read  £V. 

—  147th — 1st  line,  for  beateous,  read  beauteous. 

—  150th — 3d  line,  for  nymps,  read  nymphs. 

—  175th — 5th  line,  for  granry,  read  grarfry. 
— •  176th — 2d  line,  for  gratful  read  grateful. 
.—  189th— 1st  line,  for  cloud,  read  c/bwcfo. 

—  192d — 1st  line,  for  At  noon  I  delighted  to  range  o'er  the  soil, 

read,  At  noon  I  delighted  range  o'er  the  ricb  soil, 
«-.  197th— 5th  line,  for  do,  read  doth. 

—  205th — 2d  line,  for  virtue,  read  glory. 

—  215tU~ 7th  line,  forjamins,  v$vd  yearning. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS 


THE  BIRTH  OF  GENIUS. 

AN  IRREGULAR  POEM, 

NEAR  where  chaste  DIAN  holds  her  court, 
When  with  pale  crescent  she  is  seen, 
Leading  the  elves  and  fairies  gay. 
To  mimic  revel,  sport,  and  play, 
Across  the  dew-bespangled  green ; 
B 


t         14         ] 

Where  SOL  attir'd  in  purple  vest, 
His  fiery  coursers  sunk  to  rest, 
For  ease  and  pleasure  would  resort ; 


In  a  retreat,  where  Nature,  as  in  play, 

Had  shed  her  choicest  stores  ; 
Where  bloom'd  the  sacred  laurel,  and  the  bay, 
And  wheresoe'er  the  ravish'd  eye  could  stray, 
Were  ever  blooming  flowers  5 


Beside  a  spring,  whose  clear  translucent  wave 
O'er  variegated  pebbles  softly  crept, 
O'er  which  the  lovelorn  willow  wept, 
Deep  in  a  coral  rock,  wras  form'd  a  cave. 
There  Nature  still  in  sportive  mood 

Had  deck'd  the  grot  with  spar's,  and  gems,  and  ore 
The  flaming  ruby  there  was  seen, 
The  modest  amethyst's  unchanging  blue, 
Pure  rocks  of  diamond,  the  emerald  green  ; 


I          15         7 

tho*  the  hand  that  deck'd  it  thus  was  rude, 
The  more  'twas  gaz'd  upon  it  pleas'd  the  more, 
Forever  various  and  forever  nevr. 


Of  nymphs,  and  hamadry'ds,  the  fav'rite  haunt, 

But  chiefly  of  AZURIA  ;  oft  would  she, 
Ere  PHOEBUS  5gan  his  beams  to  dart  aslant^ 
Forsake  the  sportive  sylvan  throng, 
Neglect  the  dance,  forget  the  song, 
And  hither  come  to  weep,  from  observation  free. 


Lovely  AZURIA,  young  aiyl  fair, 
Adorn'd  with  every  grace, 
Was  JUNO  in  her  shape  and  air, 
And  VENUS  took  peculiar  care 

To  decorate  her  face. 
Her  skin  surpass'd  the  lily's  hue  ; 
Her  auburn  tresses  light  fantastic  playM, 
Loose  floating  in  the  air  ; 


C      16      ] 

Some  fell,  her  beauteous  neck  to  shadcj 
And  by  the  contrast  fairer  made 
Her  bosom,  partly  bare ; 
Thro'  silken  curtains  sweetly  stole 
An  eye-beam,  that  could  melt  the  soul, 
From  eyes  celestial  blue. 


Too  oft  the  nymph  had  sought  the  shade ; 
For  PHOEBUS,  when  from  day  retir'd, 
Beheld  her  oft,  and  oft  admir'd. 

At  length  his  heav'nly  lyre  he  strung  ; 
As  o'er  th*  obedient  strings  his  fingers  move, 
He  sung  AZURIA'S  charms,  and  PHOEBUS'  love  ; 

Sweet  strains  of  everlasting  love  he  sung, 
The  listening  nymph  believ'd,  and  was  betray'd. 


And  now  pale  ENVY  from  her  loathsome  cell, 
Where  she  sat  brooding  mischief,  and  where  dwell 


Malicious  SATYR,  Slander  double  tongued, 

And  all  the  horrid  retinue  of  hell, 
Came  forth  ;  the  Spectre  with  malignant  joy 
Breath'd  on  the  nymph  her  pestilential  breath, 
And  flashed  vindictive  lightnings  from  her  eye  ; 
As  thus  she  spoke  : 

Vain  thoughtless  fool,  forbear, 
Nor  think  that  he  who  has  dispoil'd  thy  charms, 
Will  e'er  again  entreat  thee  to  his  arms, 

Or  make  thee-  more  his  care. 

No,  e'en  the  infant  thou  art  doom'd  to  bear, 
He  cannot  guard  from  harms. 


Whither  soe'er  the  urchin  flies, 

Thither  I'll  go : 
And  those  who  shall  his  favour  court, 

Or  his  gay  visits  prize, 
Nor  joy  nor  peace  shall  know. 

In  vain  he'll  bid  fresh  laurels  rise, 

To  grace  his  votary's  brow ; 
B  2 


Where'er  the  hateful  tree  may  grow, 
1*11  send  a  whirlwind  through  the  skies$ 

To  blast  it  ere  its  leaves  expand. 
Nor  dew,  nor  show'r,  shall  fill  its  cup  ; 

My  chilling  breath,  my  withering  hand, 
Shall  dry  its  moisture  up. 


Pale  stood  the  nymph  ;  her  tearful  eyes  she 
To  where,  just  sinking  in  his  oozey  bed 
PHOEBUS  withdrew  his  piercing  light, 
And  veil'd  his  rays  from  mortal  sight, 
In  many  a  gorgeous  purple  fold, 
Edg'd  round  with  crimson,  mix'd  with  gold. 
Oh  power,  she  cried,  by  all  ador'd  and  prais'd, 
Whither  !  ah  whither  !  is  thy  influence  fled, 
That  this  malignant  fiend  dares  rear  her  head, 
And  with  unhallow'd  threats  attempt  to  blight 
Thy  offspring's  fame,  and  on  his  name 
Her  baleful  poison  shed  ? 


Trembling  she  spoke,  and  shrunk  from  the  dark  glance 

Shot  from  the  grinning  Fury's  half  clos'd  eye. 
While  in  the  Harpy's  train,  she  saw  advance 

FOLLY,  in  robes  of  variegated  die, 
Pointing  the  finger,  lolling  out  the  tongue, 

Jingling  her  bells,  presuming,  bold,  and  rude  ; 
And  IGNORANCE,  with  vacant  stare, 

Laughing  at  what  she  never  understood. 


Appall'd,  aghast,  from  her  late  glowing  cheek 
The  crimson  tide  receding,  wholly  fled. 

Vainly  her  pallid  lips  essay'd  to  speak ; 

The  silken  fringe  dropp'd  o'er  her  languid  eyes, 

Her  snowy  breast  receiv'd  her  drooping  head, 
That  breast  which  laboured  with  convulsive  sigh$: 


She  fainted,  fell ;  the  dark  and  yawning  earth 
Received,  and  o'er  her  threw  Oblivion's  veiL 


[         20         ] 

FOLLT  was  silent.    At  departed  worth 

ENVY  must  cease  to  sneer,  and  PRIDE  to  rail. 
But  ere  she  sought  eternal  night, 
A  blooming  Cherub  saw  the  light ; 
And  from  the  turf  that  pillow'd  her  fair  head. 
Every  flower  that's  sweet  or  gay, 
And  paints  the  varied  robe  of  May, 
Up  sprang,  to  decorate  her  offspring's  bed. 
Myrtle,  with  the  musk-rose  twin'd, 

Scatter'd  round  his  pillow  lay,- 
Form'd  a  wreath  his  brows  to  bind. 

Mingled  with  the  sacred  bay. 
Pendent  from  o'er  arching  boughs 

Woodbines  waft  their  sweet  perfume; 
The  amaranth's  ne'er  fading  bloom, 
With  rich  unchanging  purple  glows. 
On  the  green-sward  scatter'd  round 
Simple  violets  were  found  ; 

Vi'let,  sweetest  flower  that  blows, 
Tho'  not  so  gaudy  as  the  rose, 
You  sweeter  are. 


t      *i       3 

The  humble  lily  of  the  vale, 
Like  modest  worth  that  shuns  the  light, 
In  verdant  folds  retir'd  from  sight, 

Hid  her  pure  virgin  blossoms  fair  and  frail, 
Fragrant  as  fair* 


The  boy  was  lovely ;  in  his  form  and  face 
Shone  forth  his  mother's  beauty,  and  her  grace. 
His  eye  could  ecstacy  inspire, 
Beaming  the  radiance  of  his  sire, 
Emitting  sparks  of  pure  empyrean  fire  * 

On  his  head  gay  Fancy's  wings, 
As  round  she  flew,  were  left  behind  her ;. 

And  when  in  air  the  urchin  springs, 
Leading  him  on  you*!!  always  find  her,, 
Weaving  wreaths  which,  as  she  flies, 

Catch  bright  etherial  dies  ; 
Yet  tho'  he  has  her  wings,  he  can't  overtake  or  bind 


I         22         3 

Water-nymphs,  from  pearly  caves, 

Strings  of  shells,  and  coral,  brought, 
Lav'd  him  in  their  chrystal  waves, 

Wrapp'd  him  in  a  web  they'd  wrought 
Of  lovers,  wreck'd  on  distant  coast. 

Of  constant  nymphs,  their  names  entombing 
Deep  in  their  hearts  ;  of  heroes  lost, 

Lost  for  their  country,  and  who  bought, 
By  death,  immortal  wreaths,  forever  blooming. 


The  sacred  Nine,  from  their  celestial  bowers, 
Descended  at  the  heav'nly  cherub's  birth  ; 

E*en  rapid  TIME  check'd  in  their  flight  the  hours, 
To  welcome  him  to  earth. 

And  in  return  the  sportive  child, 

Tho'  charm'd  to  make  the  dotard  stay, 

When  he  was  tedious,  sweetly  smiPd, 

Or  tun'd  some  strain,  so  soft,  so  wild, 
As  hurried  him  away. 


Flashing  from  the  burning  east, 

Usher'd  in  with  smiles  and  tears, 
In  saffron  robe,  and  ruby  vest, 

Radiant  PHOEBUS  now  appears. 
On  his  fierce  coursers*  necks  he  threw  the  reins, 
•    And,  Go,  he  cried  ;  on  this  auspicious  morn 
Range  at  your  pleasure  through  yon  azure  plains., 
For  on  the  earth,  a  brighter  planet  reigns  ; 

GENIUS,  my  first,  my  darling  son,  is  born. 


Around  his  brows  etherial  fire, 
Flam'd  at  the  God's  command, 

Anew  he  strung  his  golden  lyre, 
And  plac'd  it  in  his  hand. 

He  sung  of  love  ;  to  glory  rais'd  the  strain  : 

Love  trembled  at  the  heart ;  but  martial  fire 
Rush'd  thro*  each  throbbing  vein. 


I       24        ] 

MARS  and  MINERVA  both  with  joy 
Resign'd  their  spear  and  shield ; 

APOLLO  cried,  Immortal  boy 
'Tis  thou  alone  canst  wield 

The  warlike  weapon  with  effect, 

Or  in  affairs  of  state  direct. 


But  thou  wilt  find,  child  of  my  fondest  love, 

Tho*  IGNORANCE  and  FOLLY  are  thy  bane, 
Yet  to  whatever  clime  thou  shalt  remove, 

Those  harpies  still  will  follow  in  thy  train  ; 
And  ENVY,  too,  with  thongs  shall  arm  the  whip 

Which  SATYR  throws  around  with  cunning  art, 
Aiming  at  ev'ry  inadvertent  slip 

A  lash,  to  lacerate  thy  bleeding  heart. 
But  heed  them  not,  for  thy  superior  worth 

On  eagle's  wings  shall  rise  ; 
And  whilst  they  grovel  on  the  earth, 

Thou  shalt  ascend  the  skies. 


t         25          ] 

When  FANCY  wings  her  airy  round, 

Keep  virtue  always  near ; 
On  her  thy  wildest  flights  have  found 

A  rest  uncheck'd  by  fear. 


A  few  words  beside !  and,  my  son,  ever  mind  them, 
Love  talent  and  merit,  wherever  your  find  them. 
To  no  sex,  to  no  station,  no  climate  confin'd, 
They  ever  will  reign  uncontrouPd  in  the  mind. 
Or  set  talents  aside,  if  true  merit  is  found, 
Where  the  heart  is  untainted,  and  principles  sound*; 
In  whatever  state  you  may  safely  approve  it, 
And  whate'er  its  sex,  you  as  safely  may  love  it. 
For  wherever  virtue  and  sense  may  combine, 
They  will  silence  the  passions,  repress  and  refine 
Each  grosser  emotion  till  power  is  given, 
To  bear  the  strong  sympathy  even  to  heaven. 
So  pure  the  attachment,  so  fervent  the  love, 
It  may  confident  hope  consummation  above, 


C         25         ] 

Where  each  thought  stands  reveal'd  as  it  firstwas  conceiv'd, 
And  MALICE  shall  blush  at  the  tales  she  believM. 


He  spoke,  and  swift  ascending, 

Cut  th*  etherial  way  ; 
While  clouds,  with  lightning  blending, 

Shot  a  pale  doubtful  ray  ; 
GENIUS  beheld  him  rise 

And  eager  would  pursue, 
But  clouds  enwrap'd  the  skies, 
And  shut  him  from  his  view. 
Low  on  the  earth  bending,  his  hands  rais'd  in  air, 
To  his  parent  ascending,  he  offer'd  this  prayer. 


Oh  thou,  who  from  chaotick  night 
Shotst  the  first  morning  ray, 

Who  dartest  intellectual  light 
And  brightens  mental  day. 


[      w       3 

Thy  beams  to  me,  dread  Sire,  impart, 
Elate  my  soul,  dilate  my  heart ; 
And  when  thou  comest  bring  with  thee 
Sweet  sacred  Sensibility. 
And  on  thy  pinions  sporting  light, 
Or  rapt  by  her  in  soft  delight, 
Still,  gracious  Power,  let  me  find 
A  pure,  a  self  approving  mind. 


The  dark  clouds  parted,  and  a  beam  of  light, 
Almost  too  powerful  for  mortal  sight, 

Broke  on  the  prostrate  child  ; 
And  soft  was  heard  a  dulcet  voice, 
Enquire,  Is  VIRTUE  then  thy  choice  ? 

He  bow'd  his  head  and  smil'd. 


Then  go,  she  cried,  inspir'd  by  me, 
Launch  on  ambition's  stormy  sea  ; 


t          ^  ] 

Or  boldly  for  thy  country's  good, 
Stem  Faction's  rude  and  boiling  flood, 
Then  vainly  ENVY  may  oppose, 
Rising  superior  to  thy  foes, 
Thy  hallow 'd  name  can  never  die> 
Tis  sacred  to  eternity. 


ODE 
TO  SENSIBILITY. 

HAIL,  Sensibility  !  thou  angel  dear, 

Who  breath'st  the  sigh  or  drop'st  the  silent  tear 

At  other's  grief ; 
Who  guid'st  the  generous  liberal  hand, 

To  give  relief. 

Without  thee,  say,  what  had  we  been  ? 
Unfeeling  brutes,  who  scarce  deserve  the  name  of  men. 
Come,  fill  my  heart,  and  let  it  overflow, 
Exult  in  other's  joys— or  bleed  at  other's  woe. 


See  yon  poor  wretch  with  hunger  starv'd, 
Eager  he  eyes  his  precious  grain  of  food  j 
c2 


[          30          ] 

What,  tho'  tis  tainted,  mouldy,  dry  or  hard, 
His  famish'd  appetite  still  thinks  it  good. 
There  was  a  pang  shot  through  my  very  heart ; 
At  thy  command,  my  ready  hand 
Of  my  small  portion  hastes  to  give  a  part, 
While  From  my  eye  th'  unbidden  tear  will  start, 
,  That  such  keen  mis'ry  should  afflict  mankind. 

Yet  as  I  gently  grieve, 
I  bless  the  hour,  Benignant  Pow'r, 
That  gave  the  means  those  sorrows  to  relieve. 


'How  can  the  stoic  think  it  bliss 

To  know  no  joy,  to  feel  no  woe  ; 
Mine  is  a  happier  state  than  his, 

Who  both  these  passions  know. 
Whose  pulse  can  beat  to  joy's  light  measure, 
And  dance  the  revel  round  of  pleasure  ; 
Or  drop  th'  excruciating  tear 
O'er  sacred  friendship's  hallow'd  bier. 


[         31         ] 

Sweet  SENSIBILITY  be  mine, 

And  I'd  not  change  my  lowly  cot. 
Queen  of  the  eastern  world  to  shine, 

And  share  the  proudest  monarch's  lot. 
What  if  thou  hast  a  thousand  darts  ? 

I  will  not  once  repine. 
Oh,  might  I  be  allowed  to  share 
The  raptures  which  thy  smile  imparts  ! 
Empty  thy  quiver  without  fear, 
Wring  from  my  tortur'd  heart  its  every  tear, 
If  thinly  scattered  here  and  there 

Thy  sweetest  joys  are  mine. 


ODE, 

ON  THE  BIRTH  DAY  OF 

JOHN  ADAMS,  ESQVIXS, 

PRESIDENT  OF    THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA, 

^799- 

WHEN  great  ALCIDES,  JOVE'S  immortal  son, 
Attain'd  the  dawn  of  manhood,  life's  spring  tide, 
Rushing  impetuous  through  his  agile  frame, 
Light  bade  his  spirits  dance,  whilst  health  and  joy 
Crimson'd  his  cheek  and  revel'd  in  his  eye  ; 
And  yet  restraint  the  youth  had  never  known. 


When  Virtue  from  celestial  abodes, 

Where  she  had  dwelt  associate  with  the  gods ; 


t         33         1 

In  robes  of  pure  simplicity  array  M, 

(For  VIRTUE  is  so  heavenly  fair. 

So  soft  her  features,  chaste  her  air, 

She  needs  no  borrow'd  aid,) 
To  this  terraqueous  globe  came  down, 
To  try  and  prove  the  heart  she  wish'd  to  make  her  own  ;• 


Then  VICE,  deceitful,  was  by  FOLLY  dresf, 

And  PLEASURE'S  fascinating  mask  she  wore  j 

Loose  flow'd  her  hair,  unclasp'd  her  vest, 

And  the  capricious  wanton  stood  confest. 

In  her  left  hand  a  golden  cup  she  bore, 

Whilst  with  her  right  the  clustering  grape  she  prest, 

Which  from  the  swollen  brim  ran  laughing  o'er. 


At  the  same  moment  both  approach'd  the  youth. 
And  each  in  turns  solicited  his  love. 

VIRTUE  in  modest  accents,  grac'd  by  truth, 
Told  him,  she  knew  the  way  to  fame  ; 


If  he  with  her  would  climb  the  rugged  steep, 
And  gain  by  warlike  deeds  a  deathless  name. 

And  with  hard  toil  immortal  laurels  reap. 
"  Seek/*  she  cried,  "  the  path  to  glory, 
ft  Pain  and  danger  fly  before  ye  ; 
w  Haste,  AI.CIDES,  nor  delay, 
"  Virtue,  honour  points  the  way, 

w  Haste  and  joys  celestial  prove." 


But  VICE,  in  gay  fantastic  measure, 
Lightly  bounding  o'er  the  earth, 

Cried,  "  Follow  me  to  joy  and  pleasure, 
«  Come  to  amaranthine  bowers, 
M  Deck'd  with  never  fading  flowers  ; 
"  Where  the  cheek  of  beauty  glows, 
Where  the  sparkling  nectar  flows  ; 

"  Where  you  may  dance,  and  sing,  and  play, 

<*  And  love,  and  laugh,  your  life  away, 
«  Tis  all  indeed  that  life  is  worth." 


[         35         ] 

The  youth,  at  VICE,  a  look  contemptuous  InuTd  ; 

Wrenching  a  sturdy  oak  to  serve  as  spear, 
Cried,  "  VIRTUE,  I'll  follow  thee  throughout  the  world, 

«  Where  thou  shalt  lead  there  is  no  cause  for  fear. 
«  Tho'  lightnings  gleam  along  the  sky, 

"  Tho'  thunders  aweful  roll, 
«  The  God  of  virtue  still  is  nigh  ; 
«  Tho'  earthquakes  shake  th*  affrighted  spheres  ; 

"  Tho'  pestilence  with  horrid  glare, 

"  Stalk  round  our  bed,  infect  the  air ; 
"  To  Thee,  great  power,  the  humble  soul, 
«  Can  lift  with  confidence  the  suppliant  eye, 

"  And  thou  canst  hush  their  fears. 
il  VIRTUE,  I  follow  thee  ;  'tis  thou  alone 

"  Canst  point  the  way  to  heaven  ; 
"  And  to  the  God  of  virtue  still, 

"  What'er  betide,  what'er  is  done, 
K  Whether  my  future  fate  be  good  or  ill, 

"  To  him  be  glory  given." 


[         36         ] 

VICE  heard,  appall'd,  and  from  her  face  obscene, 

Dropp'd  the  seductive  mask  ;  her  shape  and  mien 
Of  late  so  fascinating,  shew'd  to  be 

Itself— a  lump  of  foul  deformity. 

Pale  was  her  cheek,  dejected  was  her  eye, 
Except  when  memory  of  past  misdeeds, 

Wak'd  her  to  feeling  and  insanity  ; 
Then  would  it  flash  such  fearfull  glances  round, 

That  VIRTUE  pausing  gaz'd  in  pity  on  her  ; 
Dropp'd  a  benignant  tear,  wish'd  she  could  heal  each  wound,, 

And  o'er  her  throw  a  veil  to  save  her  from  dishonor. 


"  Blest  was  the  choice  he  made,"  I  eager  cried, 
As  rapt  I  lay  ;  the  volume  by  my  side, 
And  mus'd  on  what  I  had  read.     It  was  the  hour 
"  When  church  yards  yawn,"  and  fancy  has  the  power, 
To  raise  incongruous  phantoms  to  our  view, 
And  almost  make  us  think  her  airy  visions  true. 
"  But  where  in  these  degenerate  ages, 
"Can  we  a  mortal  find, 


Like  this  recorded  by  the  sages ; 

Who,  when  vice  tempts  and  passion  rages. 

With  an  unshaken  mind, 
Will  boldly  quit  without  a  sigh, 

Pleasure's  enamel'd  meads ; 
To  mount  the  path,  rugged  and  high, 
Where  virtue  points,  and  honour  leads  ? 


«  Peace,"  cried  a  voice,  "  ungrateful  mortal,  peace." 

I  rais'd  my  eyes,  a  vision  stood  beside  me  j 
Fair  as  the  tints  of  opening  day, 
Her  eye  was  chaste  as  DIAN'S  ray, 

Her  smile  so  soft,  I  knew  no  evil  could  betide  me. 
A  cxstus  bound  her  lovely  waist, 

On  which  was  INDEPENDENCE  graven ; 
Bare  were  her  arms,  or  only  brac'd 
By  circlets,  where  these  words  I  trac'd  : 

WE  TRUST  IN  UNITY  AND  HEAVEN, 


In  her  right  hand  she  held  a  spear, 

And  from  her  left  an  iron  chain  depended. 

By  which,  more  bound  by  guilt  and  servile  fear> 

Hung  lawless  ANARCHY  and  SHAME, 

AMBITION,  who  usurp'd  a  patriots  name, 

End  ENVY  slyly  seeking  to  defame 
The  WARRIOR,  by  whose  arm,  her  children  were  defended, 


«  And  who  art  thou,  bright  vision  ?M  I  enquired ; 

«  My  name,"  she  smiling  cried,  « is  LIBERTY  ;'* 
"  Oh  nymph,  by  all  beloved,  by  all  desired, 

"  And  art  thou  come,"  I  cried,  «  to  dwell  with  me  ?" 
«  No,"  said  the  goddess,  "  I  am  come  to  chide.'* 
"  Why  dost  thou  wonder  at  ALC IDES'  worth  ? 
«  Columbia  boasts,  and  she 'may  boast  with  pride, 

"  An  equal  hero's  birth. 
"  The  morn  which  dapples  in  the  east, 

"  And  makes  all  nature  gay, 
«  Speaks  what  should  be  by  all  exprest ; 
"  Let  every  face  in  smiles  be  drest, 
«  For  'tis  his  natal  day. 


t     39     ] 

ALCIDES  mighty  feats  has  done, 
Wonders  perform'd  and  conquests  won  ; 
"But  ADAMS,  greater  far  than  he, 

"  Took  rigid  honour  for  his  guide  ; 

"  Stern  truth  and  virtue  on  his  side  ; 

«  And  soaring  on  superior  worth, 

«  Trod  base  detraction  to  the  earth  ; 
«  Firm  to  her  cause, 
«  Enforced  the  lairs, 
«*  That  made  his  country  free. 


*  Then  rise,  and  tune  the  vocal  lay, 

"  Invoke  the  Muse's  aid  ; 
"  Small  is  the  tribute  thou  canst  pay, 

«  Yet  be  that  tribute  paid, 
«  And  thousands  in  that  tribute  will  bear  part, 

"  For  all  conspire  to  raise  the  festive  lay, 

"  And  as  they  joyful  hail  his  natal  day, 
"  Pour  forth  the  offerings  of  a  grateful  heart," 


THUNDER  STORM. 

VV  HEN  the  black  clouds  in  curling  columns  rise, 

And  darken  o'er  the  cheerful  face  of  day  ; 
When  the  wing'd  tribe  to  seek  for  shelter  flies, 

And  lowing  herds  forget  to  feed  or  play  : 
How  dark  how  threat'ning  now  appears  the  cloud  ; 

See  the  fork'd  lightning  flashing  all  around  ; 
Hark  now  it  burst  in  thunder  hoarse  and  loud, 

While  mortals  tremble  at  the  awful  sound. 


See  where  the  lightning  rends  the  sturdy  oak, 
Around  the  wood  the  shattered  atoms  fly  ; 

The  savage  herd  astonished  at  the  stroke, 
Quick  to  their  dens  for  shelter  hie ; 

The  boding  raven  e'en  forgets  to  croak, 
And  nature  seems  in  silent  agony. 


Now  the  poor  wretch  with  guilt  and  fear  oppress'd, 
Gladly  would  fly  the  awful  threading  scene  ; 

His  misspent  life  now  rankles  in  his  breast, 
Horror  without,  and  guilt  and  fear  within. 

And  while  he  views  his  guilty  pleasures  past, 

He  thinks  perhaps  this  moment  is  his  last, 

Yet  how  unwilling,  how  unfit  to  go, 

To  give  account  of  time  abus'd  below. 


While  he  who  knows  no  guilt,  can  feel  no  fear, 

Calmly  he  thinks,  if  doom'd  to  yield  his  breath, 
The  hand  of  him  who  made  him  still  is  near, 
To  guide  him  through  the  icy  vale  of  death. 
His  spotless  soul  no  sign  of  terror  shows  ; 
If  nature  shudders,  'tis  because  he  knows 
'Tis  natures  God  that  does  the  tempest  form, 
Speaks  in  the  whirlwind,  rides  upon  the  storm. 


»2 


[         42         ] 

At  his  command  the  thunders  roll, 

At  his  command  the  lightnings  fly 

From  shore  to  shore,  from  pole  to  pole, 
And  every  human  art  defy. 

The  strongest  tower,  touch'd  by  his  power, 
Will  into  crumbling  ruins  fall, 

Whelming  its  owners,  'neath  its  ponderous  wall. 


Thou  glorious,  great,  Omnipotent,  to  thee    , 
Our  comfort,  peace,  and  even  life  we  owe  ; 
May  we  with  grateful  hearts,  and  bended  knee, 
Here  dedicate  our  future  lives  to  thee, 
Whose  mercies  like  a  fountain  ever  flow. 


Make  us,  great  God,  to  love  thee  as  we  ought  j 
Oh  let  that  love,  through  ev'ry  action  shine  ; 

Oh  let  us  not  offend  thee  even  in  thought, 
Or  dare  to  irritate  thy  wrath  divine. 


[         43          ] 

Make  us  to  place  such  confidence  in  thee, 

That  though  thy  thunders  shook  the  tott'ring  world  ; 
Though  round  us  flaming  elements  we  see, 

And  nature  seems  to  swift  destruction  hurlM  ; 


We  may,  tho*  trembling  at  the  awful  sight, 
To  thee  our  souls  in  grateful  praises  give ; 

Whose  hand  can  waft  us  to  that  place  of  light. 
Where  none  e'er  die,  but  all  forever  live. 


EULOGY 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON, 


WHERE  the  Patomac,  with  majestic  wave, 
Washes  the  borders  of  Virginia's  shore  ; 

Once  the  retreat  of  him  most  wise  most  brave, 
Our  sainted  hero  !  now,  alas,  no  more  ;— 


Oft  has  my  fancy  took  delight  to  stray, 

Pensive,  beneath  the  high  cliff's  craggy  side 

List  to  the  dashing  of  the  foaming  spray, 
Or  undulating  murmurs  of  the  tide. 


[       «       3 

There  rapt,  entranc'd,  each  anxious  thought,  each  care, 
And  each  corporeal  sense  would  dormant  lay  ; 

While  visions,  ever  bright  and  ever  fair, 
In  airy  forms  would  round  my  temples  play. 


Keen  winter's  chilling  blast  is  never  feltf 
While  beatific  scenes  the  fancy  throng  ; 

The  heart  in  Zembla's  frozen  clime  will  melt, 
When  FANCY  leads  the  fetter'd  soul  along. 


She  comes  !  she  comes  !  a  stream  of  light, 
Bursts  on  my  aching  wondering  sight, 
And  a  celestial  band  appears  ; 
Some  bearing,  wreaths,  with  cypress  twin'd, 
Others  with  measur'd  step  and  slow, 
Drest  in  the  sad  habiliments  of  woe, 
Whose  brows  funereal  honours  bind, 
And  others  lingering  far  behind, 


With  veils  that  flutter  in  the  wind, 

Conceal  the  mournful  face,  and  dry  the  gushing  tear*. 


First  came  the  social  ARTS.     A  numerous  band 

Of  little  beings  starting  into  life, 

Follow'd,  and  rais'd  the  supplicating  hand : 

w  Where  is  our  kind  protector,  guardian,  friend  j 

"  Where  is  the  man,  who  bade  the  arts  increase  ; 

"  Who  spoke,  and  hush'd  a  jarring  world  to  peace  ; 

"  Whose  frown  repePd  the  fiends,  who  bred  domestic  strife ; 

"  Where  is  he  now  ?"  a  deep  convulsive  sigh 

Answer'd— •"  The  HERO'S  in  eternity." 


Next  came  BELLONA  on  a  flaming  car, 

Hoarse  thunders  echoed  from  each  chariot  wheel. 

Her  right  hand  held  a  torch  which  blaz'd  afar, 

And  scattered  desolation  through  the  air : 

A  ponderous  javelin  of  burnish'd  steel 

Her  left  sustain'd  j  her  black  dishevell'd  hair 


Streamed  wildly  in  the  whirlwind,  while  her  bare 

And  callous  breast  was  scar'd  with  many  a  wound  ; 

Her  garments  stain'd  with  floods  of  human  gore, 

Which,  as  she  pass'd,  drench'd  the  polluted  ground. 

Thousands  of  warriors  followed  close  behind ; 

The  brazen  trump,  shrill  fife,  and  hollow  drum, 

Their  martial  clangour  mingled  with  the  wind  ; 

Engines  of  death  their  horrid  thunders  pour'd, 

And  DEATH  himself,  amidst  the  legion,  rode 

Triumphant,  calling  u  Come,  ye  warriors,  come, 

«  Follow  yon  pow'r  so  courted,  so  adored  ; 

w  I  lead  ye  on,  'tis  I,  prepare  the  road  ; 

*  Come  then,  nor  once  regret  the  world  you  leave  behind." 


WISDOM  approach'd  ;  in  her  benignant  eye, 
Whose  vivid  sapphire  emulates  the  sky, 

A  tear  was  seen  to  start. 
Across  her  breast  a  sable  scarf  she  wore, 
Which  partly  hid  her  shield ;  her  spear  no  more 
Was  held  erect ;  inclining  to  the  earth, 


I         48         ) 

It  spoke  the  loss  of  some  superior  worth, 

Sad  emblem  of  the  pangs  which  rent  her  heart. 
And  thus  the  Goddess  spoke  :  "  Yon  lawless  band, 
14  Who  rush  impetuous  o'er  a  bleeding  land, 
"  Steeping  the  widow's  couch  with  tears, 
"  Filling  the  mother's  breast  with  fears, 
"  Can  be  restrain'd  ;  and  like  thj  impetuous  waves 

"  Within  due  bounds  confin'd ; 
**  Be  taught  to  spurn  the  name  of  slaves  ; 

"  Exert  a  free,  an  independent  mind, 
*  Yet  martial  ardour  go  with  wisdom  hand  in  hand. 

"  There  was  a  man  who  has  this  wonder  done  ; 

"  A  man  !  my  much  lamented  darling  son  ! 

"  Columbia's  guardian  genius— WASHINGTON  I" 
She  spoke,  and  o'er  her  face  her  mantle  spread, 
Nor  blush'd  to  weep— for  WASHINGTON  is  dead. 


Sweet  POESY  came  next,  and  though  a  sigh 
Burst  from  her  throbbing  breast,  her  frenzied  eye 


[        49         ] 

Was  upward  fix'd,  and  beam'd  intelligence 
Of  visions  that  entranc'd  her  every  sense  ; 
She  paus'd,  then  eager  tuned  her  dulcet  lyre. 
And  "  Grant/'  she  cried,  «  God  of  eternal  day  t 
Oh  grant  one  beam  of  thy  celestial  fire, 
Bright  as  the  worth  that  does  my  song  inspire, 
So  worthy  be  my  lay. 


Heroes  have  liv'd  in  days  of  old, 
Magnanimous,  intrepid,  bold  ; 
Men,  who  undaunted  have  at  all  times  stood, 
And  seal'd  their  country's  safety  with  their  blood. 
And  others,  in  the  Senate,  wise  as  great, 
Reform'd  the  constitution  of  the  state  ; 
Sacrificed  peace  of  mind,  property,  health, 
Counting  their  rfches  by  their  country's  wealth  ; 
Turn'd  from  the  paths  with  fame  or  honour  strew'd, 
Died  poor  and  wretched  for  the  public  good. 

E 


C       M       1 

These  Heroes'  deeds  are  told  in  every  tongue, 
And  ancient  poets  gain'd  immortal  fame, 

Because  they  have  their  godlike  actions  sung, 
And  on  the  same  fair  page  enroll'd  their  name. 


But  all  these  mighty  chiefs  of  days  of  old, 
In  wisdom,  or  in  worth,  were  known  to  fail, 

And  vice  steps  in,  when  e'er  their  story's  told, 
With  legends  that  will  make  the  cheek  turn  pale. 


HOMER,  to  sing  the  chiefs  of  Greece  was  thine  ; 

Let  the  blue  concave  with  thy  praises  ring, 
I  envy  not— a  nobler  theme  is  mine  ; 

'Tis  of  the  matchless  WASHINGTON  I  sing. 


While  Plenty  decks  Columbia's  plains, 
Where'er  the  voice  of  Fame  is  heard, 


C       5i       ] 

While  love  of  Liberty  remains, 
WASHINGTON'S  name  shall  be  rever'd. 


With  deathless  laurels  were  his  temples  bound  ; 

Through  his  whole  life  no  blemish  could  be  found  ; 

From  stern  integrity  he  never  swervM  ; 

He  honour5  d  openly  the  God  he  seiVd  ; 

To  us  who  mourn  he  has  example  given, 

And  made  more  bright  the  path  which  leads  to  heaven." 


She  paus'd,  she  ceas'd  ;  her  magic  lyre,  unstrung, 
Across  her  shoulders  pensively  she  hung  ; 
While  music  wild,  enthusiastic,  fair, 
Breath'd  a  pathetic  soul-enchanting  air, 
In  strains  the  Hero  had  not  blush'd  to  hear, 
Usher'd  and  ended  by  a  grateful  tear. 


[         52         3 

Sculpture  and  Painting,  wrapt  in  silent  grief, 
Held  the  resemblance  of  the  sainted  chief ; 
The  following  muses  1x>re  a  marble  urn, 
Sacred  to  him  whose  loss  e'en  millions  mourn. 


But  now  three  virgins  greet  my  eyes, 
By  whom  each  sorrow  is  subdu'd  ; 
The  first  bright  fav'rite  of  the  skies 
Was  GRATITUDE. 


PEACE,  her  benignant  olive  branch  displayed, 

While  COMMERCE  pour'd  her  golden  treasures  round  ; 

When  GRATITUDE,  pure,  unaffected  maid, 
Spoke,  and  the  world  was  silent  at  the  sound. 

For  even  savages,  untaught  and  rude, 

Will  listen  to  the  voice  of  GRATITUDE. 


t          *«          ] 

«  Lamenting  mortals,  cease  this  useless  grief, 

"  Nor  longer  mourn  the  great,  the  godlike  Chief; 

"  *Let  this  reflection  dry  a  nation's  tears, 

"  He  died  as  ripe  in  glory  as  in  years ; 

«  And  tho  the  loss  of  WASHINGTON  is  great, 

u  ADAMS  remains  to  guide  the  helm  of  state  ; 

M  And  would  you  prove  the  hero's  memory  dear, 

"  Learn  his  last  parting  precepts  to  revere. 

"  My  friends,  my  fellow-citizens,  said  He, 

"  Be  still  unanimous,  be  great  and  free  ; 

"  For  know,  a  state  may  soon  be  rendered  weak 

"  By  foreign  faction  or  by  private  pique  ; 

"  Let  not  corruption  e'er  your  judgment  blind  j 

"  Preserve  with  care  an  independent  mind  ; 


*  The  following  sixteen  lines  were  quoted  from  this  Poem  in 
manuscript,  by  Dr.  BARTLETT,  of  Chartestown,  in  his  Oration  on 
*he  death  of  WASHINGTON. 

E  2 


[         54         3 

**  Support,  revere  the  laws  ;  believe  me,  friends, 
"  Your  all  on  unanimity  depends. 
«  By  faction,  all  would  be  to  chaos  hurl'd  ; 
«  Be  but  united,  and  defy  the  world." 


As  thus  she  spoke,  a  sweetly  solemn  strain 
Stole  on  the  ear,  and  from  th*  extended  plain 
This  chorus  rose  :   "  Columbians,  see 
The  man  who  made  you  great  and  frec> 

Translated  to  his  native  sky  ; 
Of  mortal  excellence  he  reach*d  the  height, 
And  dying,  left  a -fame  so  pure,  so  bright, 
It  never  can  be  sullied,  never  die." 


HYMN  TO  THE  DEITY. 
ALPHA  OMEGA,  first  and  last, 

Creative  spirit,  power  supreme, 
Whose  hand  directs  the  stormy  blast, 
Or  gilds  the  mornings  orient  beam  ; 


Who  spoke,  and  from  chaotic  night 
Unnumber'd  worlds  and  systems  rose  ; 

Whose  word  is  life—whose  presence,  light-— 
Whose  smiles  are  health,  content,  repose  ; 


Where  dost  thou  dwell  ?  Thy  throne,  how  high  ? 

Where  hast  thou  fix'd  thy  dwelling  place  ; 
Can  finite  wishes  ever  fly 

E'en  to  the  footstool  of  thy  grace  ? 


C        56        ] 

Oh  I  could  I  now  ascend,  and  stand 
Upon  the  zenith  of  the  globe, 

And  mark  how  round  on  either  hand 
The  heavens  enwrap  it  like  a  robe  ! 


How  orbs  of  pure  empyrean  light 
Around  the  wondrous  system  roll ; 

Revolving  seasons,  day  and  night, 
Visit  each  land  from  pole  to  pole  ! 


View  the  vast  stores  of  hail  and  snow, 
The  region  of  the  air  contains  ; 

Trace  whence  the  genial  breezes  blow, 
Or  whence  descend  refreshing  rains ! 

| 

Could  I  ascend  the  orb  of  light, 
That  great,  that  wondrous  type  of  Thee, 


[          *7          3 

And,  at  one  "wide  extended  sight, 
Th*  unbounded  universe  could  see  ; 


Where  should  I  find  Thee  ?  Still  above, 
Bright  clouds  thy  majesty  enshrine, 

Emitting  rays  of  joy  and  love, 
Of  joys  eternal,  love  divine. 


Where  should  I  find  thee  ?  need  I  ask  ? 

Is  there  a  shrub,  a  plant,  a  flower, 
But  makes  its  daily,  hourly  task, 

To  speak  thy  presence,  and  thy  power  ? 


E'en  now,  when  silence  reigns  around, 
E'en  in  this  solemn  hour  of  night, 

Thy  voice  is  heard ;  and  thou  art  found 
In  all  thy  works,  reveal'd  to  sight. 


[          58          ] 

Yen  thousand  insects  chant  thy  praise  ; 

Ten  thousand  worlds  thy  pott  er  declare  ; 
None  from  thine  eye  can  hide  his  ways, 

For  Thou  art  present  every  where. 


Then  teach  the  atom  thou  hast  made 
To  trust  and  hope  thy  mercy  still ; 

To  fear  thy  wrath,  to  seek  thy  aid, 
To  love  thy  laws,  and  do  thy  will. 


TO  SOLITUDE. 

• 
WRITTEN    AT     MIDNIGHT. 

OOFT  sleep  the  moon-beams  on  the  stream  ; 

Light  breathes  the  zephyr  through  each  tree  ; 
Sweet  chirps  the  cricket ;  all  things  seem 

Attuned  to  SOLITUDE  and  me, 


Oh  I  soul-reviving  SOLITUDE  \ 
Only  by  active  minds  enjoy'd  j 

Fled  by  the  ignorant  and  rude, 

And  by  unfeeling  mirth  destroy'd  ! 


Oh  !  let  me,  in  the  ev'ning  shade, 

Stray  where  the  solemn  night-bird  flits ; 


[         60         ] 

And  where,  in  sober  weeds  array'd, 
Eagle-ey'd  Contemplation  sits. 


Let  her  my  soaring  spirit  bear 

To  the  etherial  realms  above, 
To  mix  with  kindred  spirits  there, 

And  joia  their  strains  of  peace  and  love. 


There,  friendship,  which  on  earth  was  pure, 
Shall  be  with  double  force  renew'd  ; 

There,  from  malignant  fiends  secure, 
'Twill  be  no  crime  to  love  the  good. 


Few  are  the  moments  I  can  spare, 
Mild  SOLITUDE,  to  pass  with  thee  ; 

Yet  few  and  scanty  as  they  are, 

How  dear  those  moments  are  to  me  I 


How  night  her  dusky  wing  has  spread, 
And  half  the  world  is  wrapp'd  in  sleep ; 

Still  as  the  mansions  of  the  dead, 
E'en  mis'ry's  self  forgets  to  weep, 


This  hour  *s  my  own,  I  need  not  fear 
Thou  wilt  my  secret  soul  betray  : 

Thy  sombre  veil  conceals  the  tear, 
Which  dreads  the  glaring  eye  of  day. 


To  thee,  my  tortur'd  soul  can  own 
Its  faults,  and  sue  to  be  forgiv'n  j 

Kneeling  before  the  awful  throne 
Of  the  all-righteous  God  of  heav'n. 


God  !  great  as  good !  and  wise  as  just ! 
To  thee  each  secret  stands  reveaj'd , 
F 


[        62        ] 

Thou  art  my  hope,  in  thee  I  trust, 
From  thee  my  heart  is  not  conceal'd, 


Oh,  shed  on  my  perturbed  breast 
Thy  peace  I  and  grant,  forgot  by  all, 

When  death  shall  wrap  my  soul  in  rest, 
Oblivion's  shade  may  o'er  me  fall. 


CONJECTURE. 

RELEAS'D  from  its  prison  of  clay, 
Where  shall  the  freed  soul  find  its  rest  ? 

Will  it  soar  to  the  regions  of  day, 
With  spirits  immortal  and  blest  ? 


Will  it  hasten  through  vast  fields  of  air, 
On  some  distant  planet  to  dwell  ? 

Or  to  the  drear  mansions  repair, 
Of  angels  who  murmured  and  fell  ? 


While  the  body  shall  moulder  in  earth, 
Ah  !  where  shall  the  spirit  reside, 

Till  the  archangel  summon  it  forth, 
At  the  last  awful  bar  to  be  tried  ? 


C         64        ] 

Perhaps,  when  rekas'd  from  all  woe, 
The  body  from  earth  is  removed, 

The  soul  may  still  linger  below, 
Round  those  it  most  tenderly  loved. 


Perhaps,  in  reward  for  its  truth, 

Kind  Heaven  may  grant  it  the  power 

The  mind's  bitter  anguish  to  sooth, 
To  soften  affliction's  sad  hour. 


Perhaps,  as  a  punishment  clue 
For  wilful,  repeated  misdeeds, 

'Tis  condemn'd  ev'ry  moment  to  view 
The  mis'ry  which  surely  succeeds ; 


See  the  heart,  which  its  crimes  caus'd  to  bleed,; 
Still  wrung  with  incurable  grief  j 


[         65         1 

Repent,  when  too  late  to  recede  ; 
Feel  remorse  without  hope  of  relief. 


Oh  !  might  I  one  prayer  prefer, 

And  that  pray'r  be  not  impious  deem'd  ; 

May  my  spirit,  when  freed,  have  the  care 
Of  those  I  in  life  most  esteem'd ; 


In  health,  hover  over  their  head, 
And  each  threaten'd  evil  restrain  ; 

In  sickness,  to  watch  round  their  bed, 
And  mitigate  every  pain  ; 


In  the  agonized  moment  of  death, 

Oh  I  then  to  my  charge  be  it  given, 
To  comfort  with  hope,  watch  the  last  fleeting  breath. 

Catch,  and  bear  the  lov'd  spirit  to  heaven, 
F  2 


STORMY  EVENING. 

1  HE  skies  a  sombre  shade  assume, 
While  the  chill  north-eastern  breeze 

Serves  to  heighten  ev'ning's  gloom, 
Howling  through  the  leafless  trees. 


Nature  wears  her  robe  of  white ; 

Vesper  glimmers  in  the  west ; 
Not  one  gem  has  sable  night 

To  grace  her  brow,  or  clasp  her  vest. 


Hark  !  the  tempest,  loud  descending, 
Beats  against  the  brittle  pane  ; 

In  its  drifting  torrents  blending 
Fleecy  snow,  and  drenching  rain. 


[        67        3 

Now,  to  banish  spleen  and  vapours, 
Bid  the  fire  cheerful  blaze  ; 

Bring  your  book ;  and  let  the  tapers 
Shed  around  their  friendly  rays. 


Ope  the  volume,  turn  the  pages, 
Read,  and  muse,  and  chat  by  turns, 

How  ambition  lawless  rages, 
How  the  patriot's  bosom  burns, 


Learn  from  MILTON,  bard  inspir'd, 
How,  e'en  angels  could  rebel  ; 

Prom  HOMER,  how,  by  Grecians  fir'd, 
Ilium's  lofty  towers  felL 


Now  the  trav'ller,  faint  and  weary, 
Often  sighing  as  he  goes, 


[         €8         ] 

O'er  heaths,  through  forests,  dark  and  dreary> 
Beats  against  the  drifting  snows. 


Ears,  and  cheeks,  and  fingers  tingle, 
Tortur'd  by  the  piercing  frost  ; 

Scarce  he  hears  his  sleigh  bells  jingle, 
Now  alas  !  the  track  is  lost. 


Numbing  cold  each  sense  invading, 
Checks  his  pulse,  and  seals  his  eyes  ; 

No  kind  hand  the  suff  Ver  aiding, 
Buried  in  the  drift,  he  dies. 


Fancy  !  whither  art  thou  leading  ? 

Stay  !  the  scene's  too  painful  grown  ; 
I  see  those  friends  whose  hearts  are  bleeding, 

When  the  traveler's  fate  is  known. 


C       6*       ] 

By  HIM,  who  has  the  storm  directed, 
May  each  traveller,  doom'd  to  roam, 

Be  through  this  drear  night  protected, 
And  conducted  safely  home. 


Then,  no  more  the  storm  regretting, 
Fond  delight  his  soul  inspire  ; 

Wind,  and  snow,  and  cold  forgetting^, 
Chatting  round  the  social  fire. 


MARIA. 

NOT  A  FICTION, 

DAUGHTERS  of  vanity,  attend  ; 

Ye  sons  of  riot,  hear 
The  lovely,  lost  MARIA'S  end. 

And  drop  a  silent  tear. 


List  to  the  solemn  passing  bell, 
On  the  dead  silence  fall, 

In  awful  notes  that  seem  to  tell, 
This  is  the  end  of  all. 


MARIA  once  was  young  and  gay, 
In  beauty's  bloom  and  pride  ; 


£      71       3 

Sweet  as  the  fragrant  breath  of  May, 
And  innocent  beside. 


Her  form  was  faultless,  and  her  mind, 

Untainted  yet  by  art, 
Was  noble,  just,  humane  and  kind, 

And  virtue  warm'd  her  heart. 

But  ah,  the  cruel  spoiler  came, 
Admir'd  her  charms  and  youth : 

He  feign'd  to  feel  love's  pow'rful  flame. 
And  vow'd  eternal  truth. 


Free  from  disguise  herself,  she  thought 

Her  lover  as  sincere ; 
To  hide  her  tenderness  ne'er  sought, 

But  told  it  without  fear, 


She  said  she  lov'd,  one  fatal  hour  ; 

The  villain,  pleas'd  to  find 
The  lovely  creature  in  his  power, 

Poison'd  her  artless  mind. 


He  talk'd  of  bonds  by  nature  made, 

The  dearest  of  all  ties  ; 
The  heedless  girl,  by  love  betray'd, 

Believ'd  his  specious  lies. 


Her  honour  gone,  reduc'd  to  shame, 
He  leaves  the  ruin'd  fair  : 

Unmanly  boaster — blasts  her  fame, 
And  laughs  at  her  despair. 


Her  father  hearM  the  horrid  tale  ; 
Anger  infiam'd  his  breast ; 


I         73         ] 

Repentant  pray'rs  would  nought  avail  ; 
All  nature  was  suppress'd, 


In  vain  with  tears  she  bath*d  his  feet, 
And  vow'd  to  err  no  more  : 

He  said  her  home  should  be  the  street, 
And  thrust  her  from  his  door. 


Her  sex  her  miseries  insult ; 

Contempt  she  meets  from  all ; 
Some  boast  their  virtue,  and  exult 

In  poor  MARIA'S  fall. 


Wretched,  forsaken,  and  undone  ; 

No  friend  to  take  her  part, 
To  teach  her  future  crimes  to  shun, 

Or  sooth  her  aching  heart  j 
G 


[       7*       3 

At  first,  oh  !  horrible  to  name  t 
She's  infamous  for  bread, 

Till,  lost  to  every  sense  of  shame. 
She  meets  it  without  dread. 


Awhile  in  FOLLY*S  giddy  maze, 
Thoughtless,  her  time  she  spends ; 

While  pleasure  seems  to  wait  her  days. 
And  joy  each  step  attends. 


But  vice  soon  robb'd  her  lovely  face 

Of  all  its  wonted  bloom, 
While  black  remorse  and  pale  disease 

Her  tender  frame  consume. 


That  bloom  she  now  supplies  by  art, 
And  cheerfulness  she  feigns  j 


[         75 

But  still  her  lacerated  heart 
Feels  agonizing  pains. 


Cold  blew  the  wind  ;  descending  snow 

Clad  nature  all  in  white  ; 
MARIA,  now  the  child  of  woe, 

Brav'd  the  tempestuous  night. 


Passing  her  vile  betrayer's  door, 
The  sight  past  scenes  recalls  : 

With  tears  her  languid  eyes  run  o'er  ; 
Low  on  the  ground  she  falls. 


"  And  must  these  steps,"  she  weeping  cried, 

"  Support  my  aching  head  ? 
Oh  I  would  to  Heav'n  that  I  had  died, 

Ere  innocence  was  fled. 


C         76         1 

And  thou,  false  man,  whose  specious  lies 

My  easy  heart  did  gain  j 
Come,  see  the  lost  MARIA  dies, 

Through  famine,  grief  and  pain. 


Oh  come,  and  take  my  parting  sigh, 
And  hear  me  vow  to  Heaven, 

As  I  forgive  thee,  so  may  I, 
Hereafter  be  forgiven. 


But  oh,  my  father  !  nature  sure 
Might  plead  within  thy  breast ; 

Why  didst  thou  thrust  me  from  thy  door 
Why  leave  me  when  distress'd  ? 


Hadst  thou  but  pardon'd  my  first  fault, 
Hadst  thou  but  been  my  friend, 


[        77        ] 

I'd  ne'er  through  grief  and  shame  been  brought) 
To  this  untimely  end. 


Or  had  some  gen'rous  woman  strove, 

A  fallen  wretch  to  raise, 
I  now,  with  gratitude  and  love, 

Had  liv'd  to  speak  her  praise."  . 


A  poor  man  passing,  heard  her  mourn, 

But  little  was  his  store  ; 
lie  thought,  to  share  it,  in  return 

Just  Heav'n  would  give  him  more. 


lie  gently  rais'd  her  on  her  feet, 
And  led  her  to  his  home  ; 

A  poor  straw  bed,  and  matted  seat, 
Were  all  that  grac'd  the  room. 
G  2 


Some  milk  with  hand  humane  he  brought, 

And  cheer'd  the  dying  fair  ; 
With  pious  pray'rs  to  sooth  her  sought, 

And  chac'd  away  despair. 


Bless !  bless  him,  Heav'n  !  for  what  he's  done  I 

For  I've  no  power,  she  cried  : 
The  accent  falter'd  on  her  tongue  ; 

She  grasp'd  his  hand,  and  died. 


AFFECTION. 

lOUCH'D  by  the  magic  hand  of  those  we  love, 
A  trifle  will  of  consequence  appear  ; 

A  flow'r,  a  blade  of  grass,  a  pin,  a  glove, 
A  scrap  of  paper  will  become  most  dear. 


And  is  that  being  happy,  whose  cold  heart 
Feels  not,  nor  comprehends  this  sourse  of  joy  ? 

To  whom  a  trifle  can  no  bliss  impart, 

Who  throw  them  careless  by,  deface,  destroy  ? 


Yes,  they  are  happy  ;  if  the  insensate  rocks 
Which  the  rude  ocean  beats,  or  softly  laves, 

Bejoice  that  are  mov'd  not  by  the  shocks, 
Which  hurl  full  many  to  untimely  graves, 


so 


Yes,  they  are  happy  ;  if  the  polish'd  gem, 
On  which  the  sun  in  varied  colours  plays, 

Rejoices  that  its  lustre  comes  from  him, 
And  glows  delighted  to  reflect  his  rays. 


Not  else.— Though  hearts  so  exquisitely  form'd, 
Feel  misery  a  thousand  different  ways  ; 

Yet  when  by  love  or  friendship's  power  warm'd, 
One  look,  whole  days  of  misery  repays. 


One  look,  one  word,  one  kind  endearing  smile, 
Can  from  the  mind  each  painful  image  blot : 

The  voice  we  love  to  hear  can  pain  beguile, 
List'ning  the  world  beside  is  all  forgot. 


Tho'  sharp  the  pang  which  friendship  slighted  gives, 
Tho'  to  the  eye  a  tear  may  force  its  way  ; 


C       «i       3 

The  cause  remov'd  when  hope  again  revives, 

Light  beats  the  heart,  and  cheerful  smiles  the  day, 


True,  when  we're  forc'd  to  part  from  those  we  love, 
'Tis  like  the  pang  when  soul  and  body's  riven  ; 

But  when  we  meet,  the  spirit  soars  above, 
And  tastes  the  exquisite  delights  of  heaven. 


Mine  be  the  feeling  heart :  for  who  would  fear 
To  pass  the  dreary  vale  of  death's  abode, 

If  certain,  at  the  end;  they  should  be  near 
And  feel  the  smile  of  a  benignant  God  ? 


TO  TIME. 

OLD  TiME,thou'rt  a  sluggard;  how  long  dost  thou  stay ; 

Say,  where  are  the  wings,  with  which  poets  adorn  thee  ? 
Sure  'twas  some  happy  being,  who  ne'er  was  away 

Prom  the  friend  he  most  lov'd,  and  who  wish'd  to  have 

shorn  thee, 
First  drew  thee  with  pinions  ;  for  had  he  e'er  known 

A  long  separation,  so  slow  dost  thou  move, 
He'dhave  pictured  thee  lame,and  with  fetters  bound  down ; 

So  tedious  is  absence  to  friendship  and  love. 


I  am  sure  thou'rt  a  cheat,  for  I  often  have  woo'd  thee 
To  tarry,  when  blest  with  the  friend  of  my  heart : 

But  you  vanish'd  with  speed,  tho'  I  eager  pursued  thee, 
Entreating  thee  not  in  such  haste  to  depart. 


[         83         j 

Then,wretch,thou  wast  deaf,  nor  wouldst  hear  my  petition^ 
But  borrowed  the  wings  of  a  sparrow  or  dove ; 

And  now,  when  I  wish  thee  to  take  thy  dismission 
Till  those  hours  shall  return,  thou  refusest  to  move. 


TO  A  MOTH, 

THAT  ONE  EVENING,  EARLY  IN  THE  SPRING,  FLEW  IN  AT 
THE  WINDOW,  AND  PLAYJD  ROUND  THE  CANDLE. 

LlTTLE  fluttering,  fragile  being, 

Lively  harbinger  of  spring, 
Welcome  to  my  humble  dwelling, 

Welcome  is  the  news  you  bring. 


You  say,  the  wintry  season's  over, 
Chilling  storm  and  biting  frost ; 

That  the  fields  will  soon  recover 
All  the  verdure  they  had  lost/ 


Ah  !  beware,  gay  little  stranger  ; 
Go  not  near  yon  dazzling  light  ? 


« 

*.,  , 

Why,  unconcious  of  thy  danger, 
Round  it  dost  thou  wing  thy  flight  ? 


By  its  splendour  fascinated, 

Nearer,  and  nearer  wilt  thou  fly  ? 

Ah  !  poor  fool,  I  see  thou'rt  fated 
In  thj  alluring  flame  to  die. 


So,  by  merit  oft  attracted, 

The  heart  susceptible  admires  ; 

Basks  in  the  powerful  rays  refracted-— 
In  the  subtile  flame  expires  ; 


Too  late  acquainted  with  its  danger, 
Fain  would  the  fascination  fly  ; 

But  ah  !  like  thee,  poor  little  stranger, 

« 
Tis  doom'd  to  flutter,  yield,  and  die, 

H 


- 


.  V 

THE  ROSES  OF  LIFE. 

*, 
_..,..          __. J 

Or  the  thorns  and  the  thistles  that  in  our  path  lay  ? 
Has  not  Heaven  a  portion  of  reason  bestow'd, 

To  pass  them  o'er  lightly,  or  brush  them  away  ? 
I'll  gather  life's  roses  wherever  I  find  them, 

And  smile  at  their  folly  who  dread  to  come  near  ; 
Who  cast  all  its  joys  and  its  pleasures  behind  them, 
•  Nor  pluck  the  sweet  buds, lest  the  thorn  should  appear. 


There  are  sorrows  and  cares  in  this  life,  'tis  well  known  ; . 

The  heart  may  weep  blood,  though  the  cheek  may  be  dry ; 
But  in  soothing  another's,  we  lighten  our  own, 

And  light  falls  the  tear  that  fills  Sympathy's  eye 


dry; 

9 


I        87        3 

Dear  SYMPATHY  I  thou  art  the  rose  without  thorns  ; 

Dwell  still  in  my  bosom,  each  care  to  beguile  : 
Thy  softness  the  cheerful  face  ever  adorns, 

And  throws  o'er  the  sad  one,  a  meek  patient  smile. 

Grim  POVERTY,  too,  is  a  thorn  in  our  way—- 

Ah  no  !  for  meek  INDUSTRY  stands  by  his  side  ; 
With  cheerful  spring  FAowers  she  makes  the  path  gay, 

And  smiles  at  the  frowns  and  repinings  of  pride. 
Come,  strew  round  thy  violets  sweetly  narcotic  ; 

So  calm  and  refreshing  the  rest  they  bestow, 
The  monarch  supreme,  or  the  tyrant  despotic, 

Such  rest  can  ne'er  take,  nor  such  slumbers  can  know, 


And  see  the  gay  wreath  with  which  Heaven  has  bound  us, 
Society,  friendship,  and  chaste  mutual  love  ; 

Snatch,  snatch  the  gay  flowers !  the  storm  gathers  round  us ; 
The  roses  will  fade,  and  their  fragrance  remove. 


L  **  J 

Then  bend,  humbly  bend  to  the  storm  as  it  passes  j 
Tho'  sharp  be  the  thorn  that  remains  on  the  spray, 

Friendship'sblossom  ne'er  fades,  and  its  perfume  surpasses 
The  light  summer  flowers,  which  flitted  away. 


ill 


; ' 


EVENING. 


M.ILD  EVENING,  on  whose  dove-like,  downy  wing, 
The  wanton  Zephyrs  sport,  and  as  they  fling 
Their  soft  refreshing  dews  o'er  hill  and  dale, 
Ten  thousand  sweets  are  wafted  by  the  gale — • 
Thee  I  invoke,  sweet,  solemn  virgin,  thee, 
To  take  thy  silver  lamp,  and  stray  with  me 
To  yonder  hill,  half  hid  beneath  the  wood, 
Where  I  may  listen  to  th'  impetuous  flood, 
Which,  rushing  from  the  cliff's  rude  craggy  side, 
Softer  and  softer  flows  in  sullen  pride  ; 
Till  through  the  mead  its  bright  meanders  stray, 
And  its  weak  murmurs  gently  die  away. 
There,  as  my  feet  the  flow'ry  margin  press, 
Thou,  Nymph,' in  thy  most  fascinating  dress, 

H  2 


C       so       ] 

n  azure  robe  ascend  thy  studded  car, 
And  on  thy  forehead  thy  pale  crescent  bear : 
Nor  let  light  FOLLY,  noisy,  pert  and  rude, 
Upon  the  peaceful  solitude  intrude  ; 
But  to  my  wish  be  some  companion  sent, 
Who  knows  to  make  e'en  silence  eloquent ; 
Who  feels  thy  charms  expand  the  glowing  heart, 
And  in  few  words,  those  feelings  can  impart ; 
In  simplest  language,  be  each  thought  exprest 
In  part,  whilst  looks  of  rapture  speak  the  rest. 
And  whilst  on  contemplation's  wing  we  rise 
To  range  the  wondrous  concave  of  the  skies, 
Mark  how  the  planetary  systems  roll, 
And  trace  Creative  Power  from  pole  to  pole  ; 
Then  may  mild  wisdom,  from  the  lips  I  love, 
Assist,  direct,  encourage,  and  improve 
My  weaker  judgment ;  but  my  soul  aspire  ; 
Teach  me  to  comprehend,  adore,  admire  ; 
Thus  strewing  flow'rs  along  lifers  dreary  road, 
We'd  trace  the  path  that  leads  us  to  our  God. 


Ah  !  whither,  whither  would  my  fancy  stray  ? 
Behold  th*  enchanting  vision  fleets  away  ! 
A  lonely,  dreary  waste  is  all  I  see  ; 
A  lonely  prospect  but  remains  for  me  : 
Yet  here  and  there  adorn'd  with  evergreen, 
Some  simple,  fair,  and  fragrant  flowers  are  seen. 
Then  let  me  not  ungrateful  pass  them  by, 
Though  they  boast  not  the  rich  carnation's  die  j 
Nor  do  their  modest  leaves  or  forms  disclose 
The  grace  and  perfume  of  the  blushing  rose  ; 
Yet  e'en  in  these,  the  humble  heart  may  find 
iVnd  draw  a  balm  to  heal  the  wounded  minct 


Si 

{ 


mm 

TO  HYGEIA. 

NYMPH,  who  at  the  earliest  dawn 
Bucklest  blythe  thy  buskins  on ; 
Who  hang'st  upon  the  milkmaid's  pail, 
The  mower's  scythe,  the  thresher's  flail 
Who  lov'st  thy  votaries  to  lead 
O'er  misty  hill,  through  dewy  mead, 
Ere  yet  AURORA'S  saffron  vest 
Throws  a  light  blush  along  the  east ; 
Whose  ruddy  cheek,  and  laughing  eye 
Mak'st  all  around  thee  sing  with  joy  ; 
That  from  the  cottage  to  the  throne 
We  court  thy  smile,  and  fear  thy  frown — 

Thee  I  invoke  !  HYGEIA,  thee  ! 

- 
Where'er  thou  wand'rest,  blythe  and  free, 

Hither  in  haste  thy  steps  direct, 
Each  salutary  plant  collect, 


[         53         ] 

And  scatter  them  around  the  bed, 
Where  BERN  A  rests  her  aching  head. 
Each  cooling  herb,  that  may  restrain 
The  fever  boiling  in  each  vein  ; 
Thy  poppies  bring,  her  eyelids  steep, 
And  seal  them  in  refreshing  sleep. 
Oh  Nymph  !  wherever  thou  may'st  dwell, 
On  mountain's  brow,  in  grot  or  cell, 
Propitious  hear  thy  suppliant's  pray'r  ; 
Let  BERNA'S  safety  be  thy  care  ; 
Repel,  alleviate  every  pain, 
And  make  her  all  thy  own  again. 


So  when  fair  FLORA,  queen  of  flow'rs, 

Comes  leading  on  May's  rosy  hours, 

Each  cheek  that  decorates  her  train, 

I'll  pluck  to  grace  thy  sacred  fane. 

An  altar  to  thy  name  I'll  raise  ; 

The  grateful  muse  shall  hymn  thy  praise  : 

Yes,  ever  grateful  will  I  be, 

Though  thou  should'st  take  thy  flight  from  me. 


. 


THE  STANDARD  OF  LIBERTY. 


former  times,  by  ancient  bards  we're  told, 
Greece,  hurried  by  revenge,  with  power  grown  bold. 
Invested  Troy's  fam'd  city,  and  at  length, 
By  art,  not  force  of  arms,  subdued  its  strength. 
The  guards,  by  fraud  deceived,  betray'd  their  trust, 
And  Troy's  proud  tow'rs  were  level'd  with  the  dust. 
At  midnight,  a  tremendous  fire  began, 
And  through  the  city  as  it  furious  ran, 
A  warlike  youth,  for  deeds  of  glory  fam'd, 
Nor  less  for  filial  love,  J£NEAS  nam'd, 
Flew  to  his  father's  tent,  "  Haste  !  haste  !"  he  crier 
"  The  city  is  surprised  ;  dear  father,  rise." 


Then  rushing  in  with  eager  haste,  he  bore 
His  aged  father  forth,  and  sought  a  distant  shore. 
JOVE,  from  Olympus'  height,  with  joy  survey'd 
The  pious  act,  and  thus  benignant  said  : 


fc* 


«  Ye  Nymphs  and  Tritons,  who  delighted  sweep 

With  beauteous  limbs  the  surface  of  the  deep, 

Be  it  your  care  JENEAS  be  not  lost ; 

Conduct  him  safe  to  the  Italian  coast ; 

There  shall  he  wed  the  daughter  of  a  king, 

And  from  their  loves  a  mighty  race  shall  spring 

Of  warlike  heroes,  who  aloft  shall  bear 

My  glorious  standard  through  the  fields  of  air.'* 

Then  from  his  hand  majestic  forth  he  threw 

The  glittering  eagle  ;  swift  as  thought  he  flew 

To  guard  ENEAS'  race,  repel  his  foes, 

Till  from  his  sons  a  mighty  nation  rose. 

The  eagle  grac'd  the  standard  they  unfurl'd, 

And  Rome  became  the  mistress  of  the  world. 

Long,  long  she  bore  the  universal  sway  ; 

The  world  with  pleasure  listened  to  obey 

Whate'er  were  her  commands  ;  but  to  relate  ^.^ 

What  sudden,  sad,  what  strange  reverse  of  fate 

Shrouded  her  glory — luxury  and  pride, 

With  avarice ,  and  every  vice  beside, 


Sapp'd  her  wise  laws,  unnerv'd  her  soldiers*  pow'r, 
And  Rome  's  vast  empire  fell,  to  rise  no  more. 


By 

The 


By  vice  and  folly  thus  expell'd  from  Rome, 

warlike  eagle  sought  another  home, 
In  mazy  circles  round  th'  ethereal  plain, 


Unfix'd,  uncertain  where  to  'light  again. 
JOVE'S  martial  bird  majestically  flew, 
Till  thy  fair  shades,  COLUMBIA,  met  his  view  ; 
On  the  new  rising  world  he  fix'd  his  eye, 

IB  "     ±f. 

And  hover'd  o'er  it  with  exulting  joy, 

JOVE  saw  with  pleasure,  and  his  will  exprest, 

"  Go,  in  COLUMBIA'S  shades  take  up  thy  rest, 

JM 

For  there,  from  lowly  cot  and  moss  grown  cell, 
My  fav'rite  daughter  freedom,  goes  to  dwell. 


Science,  with  laurell'd  brow,  shall  grace  her  court, 

i  I     ,'/  jr. 

Thither  tlie  arts  and  muses  shall  resort, 

Thither  the  brave  and  worthy  shall  repair  ; 

And  thou  shalt  grace  the  standard  they  shall  bear, 


Nor  fear  thou  e'er  shalt  be  expell'd  again : 
Columbia's  Standard  ne'er  shall  know  a  stain. 

As  thus  the  Thund'rer  spoke,  the  realms  above 

Re-echoed  with  the  strains  of  peace  and  love  : 

. 
Long  may  Columbia  flourish,  was  the  strain, 

Long  may  her  glorious  Independence  reign  ; 
By  Heaven  protected,  may  her  children  prove 
The  sweets  of  peace  and  pure  domestic  love. 

^$1;         •  ;&« 

The  music  ceas'd,  the  Standard  glorious  rose  ; 
A  youthful  band  the  heavenly  pledge  enclose 
To  guard  it,  and  repel  invading  foes  ; 
When  LIBERTY  in  robes  transcendant  bright, 

Her  head  encircled  with  a  crown  of  light, 

* 
Thus  with  a  smile  the  warlike  legion  owns, 

«  COLUMBIA  is  my  home,HER  WARRIORS  are  my  SONS.'* 
I 


RIGHTS   OF  WOMAN. 

\VHILE  Patriots  on  wide  philosophic  plan, 
Declaim  upon  the  wondrous  rights  of  man, 
May  I  presume  to  speak  ?  and  though  uncommon, 
Stand  forth  the  champion  of  the  rights  of  woman  ? 
Nay,  start  not,  gentle  sirs  ;  indeed,  'tis  true,"") 
Poor  woman  has  her  rights  as  well  as  you  ;  > 
And  if  she's  wise,  she  will  assert  them  too.  J 
If  you'll  have  patience,  and  your  yrrath  forbear? 
In  a  few  words  I'll  tell  you  what  they  are. 


You  know  when  man  in  Paradise  was  placM, 
(Blest  garden  with  eternal  verdure  grac'd,) 
In  vain  for  real  happiness  he  tried, 
Till  Heaven  in  compassion,  from  his  side 


Taking  a  rib,  fair  EVE  in  all  her  beauty 
Appear'd,  to  ADAM,  proffering  her  duty  ; 
In  terms  so  gentle,  sweet,  and  void  of  art, 
That  ere  he  thought  on't,  ADAM  lost  his  heart. 
Now  pray  don't  think  I  mean  to  take  EVE'S  partjj 
No,  she'd  no  right — 'twas  acting  very  wrong, 
To  listen  to  the  serpent's  flattering  tongue. 
And  from  her  fate  her  daughters  ever  claim 
A  right  to  be  tenacious  of  their  fame  ; 
Knowing  how  easy  she  was  led  aside, 
We  claim  a  right  to  call  up  all  our  pride  ; 
Discretion,  honour,  sense,  to  our  assistance, 
And  keep  each  flattering  coxcomb  at  a  distance. 


Then  we  assert  our  right ;  for  *tis  our  pride 
In  all  domestic  matters  to  preside  ; 
And  on  the  mystery  of  raising  pies, 
Compounding  stews  and  soups,  philosophize  ; 
Study  the  vine,  the  bush,  or  bramble's  fruit, 
Into  transparent  jellies  to  transmute  ; 


C       100       ] 

Whip  the  light  sillabub,  all  froth  and  show, 
White,  sweet,  and  harmless,  like  a  modern  beau. 


Are  fathers,  brothers,  friends,  oppress'd  with  care— * 
We  claim  a  right  in  every  grief  to  share  ; 
Shed  balm  upon  their  pillow  of  repose, 
And  strip  of  thorns  life's  quickly  fading  rose  ; 
Augmenting  to  the  utmost  of  our  power, 
The  pleasures  of  the  gay  or  tranquil  hour. 
While  man  abroad  for  happiness  may  roam, 
'Tis  ours  to  make  a  paradise  at  home. 


Our  known  exclusive  privilege  of  beauty, 
You  all  allow— and  next  in  filial  duty, 
Pre-eminent  we  stand. — £The  Grecian  Dame, 
Who  daily  to  her  father's  prison  came  ; 
And  while  maternal  fondness  wrung  her  heart, 
Forsook  the  mother's  for  the  daughter's  part : 


t       101       $ 

The  fair  Virginia  who  would  not  withstand, 
The  stroke  of  death  from  a  lov'd  father's  hand  ; 
But  meekly  yielded,  lest  the  next  sad  hour 
Should  give  her  to  the  vile  DECEMVIR'S  pow'r : 
The  gentle  RUTH,  whose  heart,  by  friendship  tied, 
Refus'd  to  leave  forlorn  NAOMI'S  side  ; 
Boldly  asserted,  and  her  right  approv'd, 
To  serve  the  mother  of  the  man  she  lov'd. 
As  'tis  our  right,  oh,  be  it  still  our  praise, 
To  gild  the  eve  of  our  dear  parents'  days  ; 
Smooth  the  drear  slope  that  leads  to  man's  last  doom* 
And  decorate  with  grateful  love  their  tomb. 


Next  'tis  our  right,  to  watch  the  sick  man's  bed. 
Bathe  the  swoln  limb,  or  bind  the  aching  head  ; 
Present  each  nauseous  draught  with  tenderness. 
And  hide  the  anxious  tear,  we  can't  repress  ; 
On  tiptoe  glide  around  the  darken'd  room, 
And  strive  by  smiles  to  dissipate  its  gloom  ; 
I  2 


t       102       3 

Cheer,  comfort,  help  them  patient  to  endure,. 
And  mitigate  the  ills  we  cannot  cure. 


We  claim  undoubted  right,  the  tear  to  dry, 
Which  gushes  from  Affliction's  languid  eye  ; 
The  widow's  heart  to  cheer,  her  wrongs  redressr 
And  be  the  mother  of  the  parentless ; 
Snatch  them  from  vice,  or  poverty's  abode, 
And  consecrate  their  orphan  lives  to  God. 
Not  by  immuring  them  in  gloomy  cells, 
Where  palsied  fear  or  superstition  dwells  j 
But  teaching  them  the  duties  of  their  station, 
Guarding  their  artless  minds  against  temptation^ 
And  lead  them  to  become,  through  industryj 
Good,  useful  members  of  society. 


These  are  our  rights — these  rights,  who  dares  dispute 
Let  him  speak  now.— No  answer— tfhat — all  mute  ? 


[         103         ] 

But  soft,  methinks  some  discontented  fair 

Cries—"  These  are  duties,  Miss."— Agreed,  they  are 

But  know  you  not  that  woman's  proper  sphere 

Is  the  domestic  walk  ?  To  interfere 

With  politics,  divinity,  or  law, 

As  much  deserved  ridicule  would  draw 

On  woman,  as  the  learned,  grave  divine, 

Cooking  the  soup  on  which  he  means  to  dine  j 

Or  formal  judge,  the  winders  at  his  knee? 

Preparing  silk  to  work  embroidery, 


Domestic  duty— *oh  how  blest  are  we  ! 
All  women  are  not  so — for  we  are  free^ 
Those  duties  to  perform  in  every  station  ; 
While  the  poor  women  of  the  eastern  nation3 
Shut  from  society— hard,  hard  their  case  is, 
Forbid  to  walk  abroad,  or  show  their  faces  ; 
From  every  care,  from  thought,  and  duty  free; 
Live  lives  of  listless  inactivity. 


[         104         ] 

Live,  do  I  say  ?  No,  I'm  mistaken  there  ; 
*Tis  vegetating  like  the  gay  paterre, 
Where  tulips,  roses,  pinks,  allure  the  eye, 
Expand  their  leaves,  to  be  admir'd,  and  die. 


While  skilPd  thus  to  improve  life's  active  powers, 

How  great,  how  blest  a  privilege  is  ours  ! 

While  laudably  employ 'd,  all  men  respect  us  : 

Oppress'd,  we've  fathers,  brothers  to  protect  us  ; 

And  are  we  orphans  ?  orphans  never  crave, 

In  vain,  protection  from  the  good  and  brave. 

Then  ever  let  it  be  our  pride,  ye  fair, 

To  merit  their  protection,  love,  and  care  ; 

With  useful  knowledge  be  our  heads  well  stored, 

While  in  our  hearts  we  every  virtue  hoard. 

These  rights  we  may  assert,  and  tho*  thought  common, 

These,  and  these  only,  are  the  RIGHTS  OF  WOMAN. 


WOMEN  AS  THEY  ARE. 
t 

il  CHILDREN,  like  tender  osiers,  take  the  bow, 
And  as  they  first  are  fashioned,  always  grow." 


Thus  spoke  the  bard  ;  and  'tis  a  moral  truth, 
That  precept  and  example,  taught  in  youth, 
Dwell  on  the  mind  till  life's  dull  scene  is  past  j 
Clinging  about  us  even  to  the  last. 
And  women,  pray  for  folly  don't  upbraid  them, 
Are  just  such  things,  as  education  made  them. 


The  girl,  who  from  her  birth  is  thought  a  beauty, 
Scarce  ever  hears  of  virtue,  sense  or  duty  ; 
Mamma,  delighted  with  each  limb  and  feature, 
Declares,  she  is  a  fascinating  creature  j 


[          106         ] 

Forbids  all  study,  work,  or  wise  reflection  ; 

'Twill  spoil  her  eyes,  or  injure  her  complexion. 

"  Hold  up  your  head,  my  dear  ;  turn  out  your  toes  ; 

Bless  me,  whats  that  ?  a  pimple  on  your  nose  ; 

It  smarts,  dear,  don't  it  ?  how  can  you  ensure  it? 

Here's  some  Pomade  aivi?iey  to  heal,  and  cure  it." 

Then,  every  little  master,  that  comes  near  her, 

Is  taught  to  court,  to  flatter,  or  to  fear  her. 

Nurse  or  Mamma  cries,  "  See,  my  dearest  life, 

There's  Charley,  you  shall  be  his  little  wife  ; 

Smile  my  sweet  creature ;  Charley,  come  and  kiss  her, 

And  tell  me,  is  she  not  a  pretty  miss,  sir  ? 

Give  her  that  orange  ;  fruit,  fine  clothes,  and  toys, 

Were  made  for  little  ladies,  not  for  boys." 


Thus,  ere  one  proper  wish  her  heart  can  move, 
She's  taught  to  think  of  lovers,  and  of  love  ; 
She's  told  she  is  a  beauty,  does  not  doubt  it  ; 
What  need  of  sense  ?  beauties  can  wed  without  it. 


[         107         ] 

And  then  her  eyes,  her  teeth,  her  lips,  her  hair, 
And  shape,  are  all  that  can  be  worth  her  care  ; 
She  thinks  a  kneeling  world  should  bow  before  her, 
And  men  were  but  created  to  adore  her. 
But  call  her  to  the  active  scenes  of  life, 
As  friend,  as  daughter,  mother,  mistress,  wife  ; 
You  scarce  can  find,  in  the  whole  course  of  nature, 
A  more  unfortunate  or  helpless  creature. 
Untaught  the  smallest  duty  of  her  station, 
She  stands,  a  cypher  in  the  vast  creation. 
Her  husband  might  perhaps  expect  to  find 
The  arigel's  form  contained  an  angel's  mind. 
Alas,  poop  .man  !  time  will  the  veil  remove  ; 
She  had  no  fault.     No  I  you   were  blind  with  love  ; 
You  flatter'cl,  idolized,  made  her  your  wife  ; 
She  thought  these  halcyon  days  would  last  for  life. 
At  every  small  neglect,  from  her  bright  eyes 
The  lightning  flashes  ;  then  she  pouts  and  cries  ; 
When  th'  angel  sinks,  I  fear,  alas,  in  common, 
Into  a  downwright  captious,  teazing  woman  ; 


[          108          ] 

And  if  a  reasonable  friend  was  sought, 
To  counsel,  sooth,  or  share  each  anxious  thought, 
Poor  man !  your  disappointment  I  lament ; 
You've  a  long  life  before  you — to  repent. 


44  Dear,"  cries  mamma,  whose  only  merit  lies 

In  making  puddings,  good  preserves,  and  pies  ; 

Who  rises  with  Aurora,  blythe  and  cheery, 

Feeds  pigs  and  poultry,  overlooks  her  dairy, 

Brews  her  own  beer,  makes  her  own  household  linen, 

And  scolds  her  girls,  to  make  them  mind  their  spinning- 

«•  Dear,  surely  Tom  was  blind  ;  what  could  he  see, 

To  think  of  marrying  such  a  thing  as  she  ? 

She  was  a  beauty  ;  what  is  beauty  ?  pshaw  ! 

I  never  knew  a  beauty  worth  a  straw. 

She's  so  eat  up  with  pride,  conceit,  and  folly, 

.    • 
I  vow  she  knows  no  more  than  little  Molly, 

Whether  a  pig  were  better  roast  or  boil'd ; 
I  warrant  many  a» dinner  will  be  spoil'd. 


But  1*11  take  care,  whoever  weds  my  daughter 
Shall  find  a  different  lesson,  I  have  taught  her. 
My  Bett's  fifteen  next  May ;  I'd  lay  a  crown, 
She'd  cook  a  dinner  with  the  best  in  town  ; 
To  roast,  or  boil,  make  pudding,  pye  or  jelly, 
There's  not  her  equal  far  or  near,  I  tell  ye. 
Then  at  her  needle,  making,  mending,  darning, 
What  is  there  else  that's  worth  a  woman's  laming  ? 
With  my  good  will,  a  girl  should  never  look 
In  any  but  a  pray'r  or  cook'ry  book : 
Reading  'bout  kings,  and  states,  and  foreign  nations, 
Will  only  fill  their  heads  with  proclamations." 
If  of  these  documents  a  girl's  observant, 
What  is  she  fit  for,  but  an  upper  servant  ? 

I 

Behold  Miss  TASTY  every  nymph  excel, 

A  fine,  accomplished,  fashionable  belle. 
Plac'd  at  the  harpsichord,  see  with  what  ease 
Her  snowy  fingers  run  along  the  keys  ; 
K 


t      no      3 

Now  quite  in  alt,  to  th'  highest  notes  she'll 

Now  running  down  the  bass,  she  falls  as  low  ; 

Flats,  sharps,  and  naturals,  together  jumbled. 

She  laughs  to  think  how  little  folks  are  humbled* 

While  some  pretending  coxcomb  sighing,  says, 

So  loud  that  she  may  hear,  "  Heavens,  how  she  plays.0 

Then  she  speaks  French.    Comment  vouz  fiortez  vouz  P 

Ma,  chere  amie  !  ma  "vie  !  oh  del  !  mon  dieu  / 

And  dances — sink,  chasse,  and  rigadoon, 

Or  hops  along,  unheeding  time  or  tune, 

As  fashion  may  direct.    Laughs  loud,  and  talks^ 

And  with  a  more  than  manly  swagger,  walks, 

Swinging  her  anus  with  an  undaunted  air ; 

And  should  occasion  serve,  perhaps  she'U  swear. 

Beckon's  some  chattering  ape  across  the  room,. 

And  call  him,  detflish  wretch,  should  he  presume 

To  tap  her  cheek,  or  neck  ;  while  'tis  her  aim* 

To  tempt  some  other  fop  to  do  the  same  ; 

Sinks  to  a  level  with  each  frothy  fool, 

And  turns  the  man  of  sense  to  ridicule. 


t     111     I 

How  wretched,  how  deplorable  his  fate, 
Who  gets  this  fluttering  insect  for  a  mate* 
If  he  has  sense,  tho*  love  might  blind  his  eyes, 
He'll  find  his  sight  too  late  ;  loath  and  despise  j 
And  being  bound  for  life,  past  help !  past  hope  i 
Wish  for  a  poniard,  pistol,  or  a  rope. 


<*  Ah !  wo  is  me,"  poor  LIUDAMIRA  crie«, 

The  drop  pellucid  trembling  in  her  eyes  $ 

«  Ah  I  wo  is  me,  I  see  where'er  I  turn 

Some  folly  to  lament,  some  wo  to  mourn." 

«  Yes,"  cries  mamma,  «  my  lovely  girl,  I 

You  caught  your  sensibility  from  me  ; 

I  ne'er  could  read  a  fine  wrought  scene  of  wo, 

But  that  my  sighs  would  heave,  my  tears  would  flow ; 

And  my  sweet  child  does  credit  to  her  breeding, 

Admires  sentiments,  and  doats  on  reading." 


Poor  LINDA  MIR  A,  deep  in  novels  read, 

When  married,  keeps  the  path  she  was  taught  to  tread  : 

And  while  the  novel's  page  she's  eager  turning, 

The  pot  boils  ever,  and  the  meat  is.burning  ; 

And  while  she  is  weeping  o'er  ideal  woes, 

Her  poor  neglected  little  infant  goes 

With  \;:,:omb'dhair,  torn  frock,  and  naked  toes. 

Her  husband  disappointed,  quits  Jiis  home, 

At  clubs  to  loiter,  or  with  bucks  to  roam  ; 

WThile  LIN  D  AMIR  A  still  the  tale  pursues, 

And  in  each  heroine,  her  own  sorrow  views, 


See  fair  ROXANA  ;  mark  with  what  a  grace 

She  moves,  all  heaven  reflected  in  her  face  ; 

She  lifts  her  beauteous  eyes,  she  smiles  and  speaks  ; 

The  laughing  loves  sits  on  her  dimpled  cheeks. 

That  is  the  face  she  wears  on  holy-clays  ; 

At  home,  on  those  she  dares,  the  nymph  repays 

Herself  for  this  restraint.    Not  the  smooth  waves, 

That  undulating  soft,  the  meadows  lave  ; 


C       us       3 

And  the  rough  ocean,  when  the  billows  rise, 
Lash'd  by  Boreaii  blasts,  and  threat  the  skies  ; 
Not  fair  AURORA,  when  with  balmy  breath 
She  wafts  perfume  along  the  dewy  heath ; 
And  the  fierce  North,  when  a  black  cloud  deforms 
The  face  of  heaven,  portending  thunder  storms  ; 
Not  the  mild  flame,  that  on  a  win'try  night 
Sheds  its  reviving  warmth,  and  cheerful  light ; 
And  Devastation,  with  her  flaming  brand, 
Wide  spreading  conflagration  through  the  land  ; 
Appear  more  diff  'rent,  than  ROXAKA'S  face, 
When,  dress'd  in  smiles,  she  puts  on  every  grace, 
And  this  ROXA.NA,  the  mask  thrown  aside, 
flashing  vindictive  ire,  and  sullen  pride  ; 
Or  when,  with  discontent  or  envy  stung, 
She  darts  rude  satire,  from  her  taunting  tongue. 
Fond  youth,  beware  t  wilfully  be  not  blind, 
That  JUNO'S  form  has  JUNO'S  haughty  mind. 
You  might  as  well  e'xpcv.  to  sleep 

In  a  slight  skiff,  upon  the  raging  deep, 

% 
K  2 


[          li*         3 

As  find  one  happy  moment  in  your  life, 
If  fair  ROXANA  should  become  your  wife. 
Black  looks,  or  sullen  tears,  at  each  repast, 
Will  make  each  day  more  wretched  than  the  last 
Till  vex'd,  and  wearied,  you  abroad  shall  roam, 
For  that  content  you  vainly  sought  at  home  ; 
Convinc'd  her  spirit  will  not  brook  control,       "1 
The  galling  chain  will  rankle  in  your  soul,         J» 
And  you  would  fly  e'en  to  the  farthest  pole,  J 
From  the  fair  fury,  from  the  madd'ning  scene j 
And  set  th*  expanded  universe  between. 


Methinks  I  hear  some  man  exulting  swear, 
"  Why,  this  is  really  "  Women  as  they  are." 
Pardon  me,  sir,  I'll  speak,  I'm  not  afraid  ; 
I'll  tell  you  what  they  are,  what  might  be  made. 
When  the  Creator  form'd  this  world  in  common, 
His  last,  best  work,  his  master-piece,  was  woman. 
Ta'en  from  the  side  of  man,  and  next  his  heart. 
Of  all  his  virtues  she  partakes  a  part ; 


C         H5         ] 

And  from  that  source,  poor  woman  got  a  share 
Of  vice  and  folly,  mingled  here  and  there. 
But  would  you  treat  us,  scorning  custom's  rules, 
As  reasonable  beings,  not  as  fools, 
And  from  our  earliest  youth,  would  condescend 
To  form  our  minds,  strengthen,  correct,  amend  ; 
Teach  us  to  scorn  those  fools,  whose  only  joys 
Are  plac'd  in  trifling,  idleness  and  noise  ; 
Teach  us  to  prize  the  power  of  intellect ; 
And  whilst  inspiring  love,  to  keep  respect ; 
You'd  meet  the  sweet  reward  of  all  your  care  j 
Find  in  us  friends,  your  purest  joys  to  share  ; 
You  then  would  own  the  choicest  boon  of  Heaven, 
The  happiest  lot  that  can  to  man  be  given, 
To  smooth  the  rugged  path,  and  sweeten  life, 
•Is  an  affectionate  and  faithful  wife. 


SONNET  L 

THE  primrose  gay,  the  snow  drop  pale, 
The  lily  blooming  in  the  vale, 
Too  fragile,  or  too  fair  to  last, 
Wither  beneath  th*  untimely  blast, 

Or  rudely  falling  shower  ; 
No  more  a  sweet  perfume  they  shed, 
Their  fragrance  lost,  their  beauty  fled, 

They  can  revive  no  more. 


So  hapless  woman's  wounded  name, 
If  Malice  seize  the  trump  of  fame  ; 
Or  Envy  should  her  poison  shed 
Upon  the  unprotected  head 

Of 'some  forsaJken  rnaid ; 


t      nr     3 

Tho'  pity  may  her  fate  deplore, 
Her  virtues  sink  to  rise  no  morej 

From  dajk  oblivions  shaUe. 


SONNET  H. 

CONTENT  is  happiness,  the  sages  say, 
Yet,  such  as  the  poor  shipwreck'd  sailors  tast^ 

Who  all  night  brav'd  the  waves,  at  dawn  of  daf 
Find  themselves  landed  on  a  barren  waste, 

And  thankful  they  have  'scap'd,  the  danger  o'er, 

Dream  not  'twill  be  their  fate  to  starve  on  shore. 


So  when  we  hear  life's  tempest  round  us  beat. 
Ambition,  Envy,  Pride  and  Jealousy, 

The  mind  desires  to  find  some  lone  retreat, 
Safe  from  the  beating  of  the  boisterous  sea ; 

Kor  thinks  within  th*  apparent  calm  abode, 

What  silent  misery  may  the  heart  corrode. 


SONNET  IIL 

YoN  cloud,  which  throws  its  dark  and  envious  TeO 

Over  the  brow  of  the  chaste  queen  of  night, 
Though  it  may  shroud  and  make  her  radiance  pal<v 

Catches  itself  a  soft  refracted  light, 
And  its  dark  tints,  in  meditation's  eye, 

Sublimely  grand  are  found  ; 
Its  sable  folds  contrasted  by 

The  stream  of  liquid  silver  round. 


Grown  darker  still,  its  silver  rays  are  lost, 

And  one  black  curtain  wraps  the  low*ring  skies, 

Shrouding  the  glorious  planetary  host, 
While  through  the  trees,  the  chill  air  mournful  sighs  $ 


C         120         ] 

And  hark,  how  heavy  fells  the  peltering  show'r ; 

Shall  man  to  murmur  dare  ? 
These  clouds,  this  rain,  cheers  plant  and  flow'f, 

To  make  the  morn  more  fair. 


So  often  o'er  life's  frail  and  transient  joy, 

Some  unexpected  sombre  shade  is  thrown  ; 
Its  gloom  the  pleasure  oftjhe  scene  rle. strays, 

And  even  Hope's  pale  trembling  beam  is  gone  ; 
But  we,  from  this,  may  purest  joys  derive, 

When  the  cloud  breaks  away  ; 
Emerging  from  the  gloom,  should  hope  revive, 
'Twill  brighter  make  the  day. 


SONNET  IV. 

SAY,  where  can  peace  of  mind  be  found, 
If  not  where  truth  and  honour  dwell  ; 

Where  reason  darts  her  influence  round, 
The  mists  of  error  to  dispel  ? 


But  oft  our  passions  take  the  lead, 
And  hoodwink'd  Reason  lags  behind  ; 

When  spotless  honour's  doom'd  to  bleed, 
Ah,  then  adieu  to  peace  of  jnind. 


Though  Reason  fail,  and  Honour  die, 
Truth,  awful  Truth,  in  light  array'd, 
L 


t        '22        3 

Holds  her  bright  mirror  to  the  eye. 
And  shews  the  victim  vice  has  made. 


We  start,  and  turn  our  loathing  eyes 
From  the  sad  view ;  the  change  we  mourn  f 

Vain,  vain  regret !  when  Virtue  flies, 
Alas  !  Peace  never  can  return. 


SONNET  V.— DAY-BREAK. 

OOFT  streaks  of  light,  along  the  eastern  skies> 
Bid  the  industrious  labourer  arise  ; 
Shake  off  the  fetters  which  his  senses  bound, 
Reap  the  rich  grain,  or  till  the  fertile  ground  ; 
Lightly  he  springs  from  off  the  slothful  bed, 
Thankful  for  power  to  earn  his  daily  bread. 


So  let  me  hail  thee,  cheerful  rising  day, 
Chasing  with  smiles  the  clouds  of  night  away  ; 
And  thankful  for  the  blessings  thou  dost  bring, 
My  soul  its  grateful  matin  song  shall  sing ; 
Prepare  my'  daily  duties  to  fulfil ; 
And  having  pow'r,  may  I  ne'er  want  the  will 


t         *24        3 

Faithfully  to  perform  the  task  assign'd, 
With  busy  hands,  a  light  and  cheerful  mind  ; 
Esteem  each  given  blessing  as  I  ought, 
Nor  what's  withheld,  repine  at,  even  in-  thought. 


SONNET  VI. 

AWAY,  dull  care,  and  leave  me  j 

By  cheerful  fancy  led, 
No  more  shall  doubt  e'er  grieve  me, 

Each  hour  by  pleasure  sped. 
Rejoicing,  as  they  pass  away, 

Repeating,  as  they  fly 
On  downy  wing :    "  Oh  !  sieze  to-day, 

Give  it  to  joy,  it  will  not  stay 
E'en  to-morrow's  morning  ray  ; 
Resting  on  its  bed  of  clay, 

<r 

Still  thy  heart  may  lie.". 


TO  HOPE* 

GlLDED  Phantom,  light  and  vain. 

Gay,  delusive,  fleeting  thing  j 
Flattering  shade,  descend  again, 

Bear  me  on  thy  downy  wing. 
What  tho*  oft  thou  dost  deceive, 

Still  I  woo  thee  to  my  breast ; 
Listen  still,  and  still  believe, 

Till  each  doubt  is  hush'd  to  rest. 


TO  THE  SAME. 

SWEET  cherub,  clad  in  robes  of  white, 

Descend,  celestial  HOPE, 
And  on  thy  pinions  soft  and  light, 

Oh  bear  thy  vot'ry  up.  , 
fTis  thou  canst  soothe  the  troubled  breast, 

The  tear  of  sorrow  dry ; 
Canst  hush  cash  doubt  and  fear  to  rest, 

And  check  the  rising  sigh," 


THE  ENQUIRY, 

WHAT  in  life  is  worth  possessing  I 
Tell  me,  rigid  censors,  say  : 

Love  alone's  the  choicest  blessing  ; 
Then  let's  love  our  lives  away. 


But  if  Love,  that  greatest  treasure, 
Is  not  plac'd  within  our  pow'r  ; 

Then  let  Friendship  fill  the  measurej 
Then  to  Friendship  give  the  hour. 


Take  the  present  time,  enjoy  it  j 
And  since  life  is  but  a  span  ; 

They  are  wisest,  who  employ  it, 
Snatching  all  the  sweets  they  can. 


TO  THE  ROSE, 

LOVELY,  blushing,  fragrant  ROSE, 
Emblem  of  life's  transient  joys, 

Ere  half  thy  sweets  tliou  canst  disclose? 
One  rude  touch  thy  bloom  destroys, 


Though  the  sweetness  thou  dost  yield 
Can  pleasure  to  each  sense  impart  ; 

The  thorn,  beneath  thy  leaves  conreal'd, 
Oft  wounds  the  unsuspecting  heart, 


FABLE. 

x 

'  WRITE  a  poem/*  said  JULIA,  «  for  me  to  peruse.'* 
"  I  will,  my  dear  girl,  if  the  subject  you'll  choose  ; 
Or  if  you'&press  into  my  service  the  Muse  ; 

For  of  late  she  has  left  me, 
Shall  I  write  upon  love  ?"  «  No,  love  is  but  folly." 
«  On  the  sorrows  of  life  ?"   "  No  !  that's  melancholy  !'» 
«  On  its  pleasures  ?"  «  Ah,  yes,  tell  me  where  I  may  find 

them  ; 
I  have  sought  them  in  vain,  but  I  now  have  resign'd  them  9 

Time  of  hope  has  bereft  me* 


Write,  write— let  me  see  ;  on  these  candlesticks  write." 
Pshaw !  I  can't  write  on  those."  "  Well,  then  let  the  pale 
light 


Be  the  subject ;  it  serves  to  enliven  the  night? 

But  oft  will  deceive  us  ; 

And  like  friends,  whom  in  fortune's  gay  sunshine  we  know> 
Having  blazed  in  our  service  an  hour  or  two. 
When  night  quick  advancing,  throws-abound  us  its  shade/ 
Grow  languid,  and  when  we  may  most  want  their  aid, 

Will  vanish,  and  leave  us.3* 


In  days  of  romance,  when,  as  Fabulists  teach  > 

Trees,  ^plants,  stocks,  and  stones  had  the  pow'r  of  speech  ; 

When  foxes  could  flatter,  and  grave  owls  could  preach  ; 

In  a  snug  little  dwelling, 

By  the  parlour  fire  side,  on  a  cold  winter's  night ; 
A  lamp  and  a  candle  emitted  their  light  ; 
'Twas  a  fair  tall  mould  candle  ;  the  lamp,  when  fill'd  brim* 

ming, 

Would  bum  twenty  hours  without  any  trimming  ; 
Each  in  merit  excelling, 


The  candle  was  vain  of  her  shape  and  her  stature> 

And  said  to  the  lamp,  "  Insignificant  creature, 

<<  Pray  dost  thou  presume,  with  thy  foul  smoky  nature, 

"  To  vie  with  my  beauty  ? 
«  Keep  your  distance,  vile  thing  ;  in  some  kitchen  immur* 

you? 

"  Your  smell  is  offensive,  I  cannot  endure  you  ; 
u  Behold  my  fine  form,  how  tall,  slender,  and  white, 
25  And  see  round  my  head  what  a  full  blaze  of  light ; 

"  Away  I  learn  your  duty." 


«  Vain  fool,"  quoth  the  lamp, "  though  so  brilliant  and  gay, 
"  Know  you  not  that  bright  flame  only  burns  to  decay 
«  The  delicate  form  you're  so  proud  to  display  ? 

"  Soon  your  reign  will  be  past. 
"  Like  the  passions  of  youth,  your  evanescent  fire, 
«  Having  wasted  your  form,  will  grow  faint  and  expire  ; 
«  While,  like  reason's  pure  radiance,  my  steadier  flame, 
«  Though  paler,  unchanging  and  ever  the  same 

?  Through  along  night  will  last." 


SONNET  I—MORNING. 

NOW  the  sun,  with  cheerful  ray, 
Rises  to  salute  the  day  ; 
While  the  fragrant  breath  of  morn 
Shakes  the  dew-drops  off  the  thorn. 
Now  the  lark,  with  tuneful  note, 
Strains  her  little  warbling  throat, 
And,  rejoicing,  seems  to  say, 
Mortals,  rise  and  hail  the  day. 


M 


SONNET  H.— NOON. 

Jr  HOEBUS,  from  his  burning  throne, 

Darts  direct  his  blazing  eye  ; 
Flow'rs,  their  morning  fragrance  gone, 

Hang  their  heads,  and  seem  to  die. 
Flocks  and  herds  now  seek  the  shade, 

Or  lave  them  in  the  cooling  streams  ; 
The  rustic  swain,  and  nut-brown  maid, 

In  the  forest  shun  his  beams  ; 
While  trees,  and  plants,  and  shrubs,  on  hill,  in  grove* 
Droop  'neath  the  fervour  of  the  rays  they  love, 


SONNET  III.— EVENING. 

PURPLE  clouds  adorn  the  west, 

Radiant  Sol  is  sunk  to  rest ; 

Eve  in  the  robe  of  silver  grey 

Wraps  the  fading  face  of  day ; 

The  milk  maid  now  her  fingers  plies  j 

The  weary  lab'rer  homeward  hies, 

His  wallet  cross  his  shoulders  flung, 

And  at  his  side  his  bottle  hung ; 
While  nymphs  and  swains,  in  meadows  gay, 
Walk  and  chat,  or  sing  and  play, 
And  Philomela's  plaintive  strains  complete  the  roundelay. 


SONNET  IV.— NIGHT. 

ON  her  car  of  deepest  blue, 

With  silver  thickly  studded  o'er, 
Clad  in  robes  of  sombre  hue. 

Sprinkling  round  a  dewy  show'r  ;  . 
A  diamond  cresent  on  her  brow, 

Shedding  soft  and  chasten'd  light, 
Bidding  cooling  zephyrs  blow, 

Welcome,  silent,  tranquil  NIGHT. 
Beneath  thy  covert  while  the  many  sleep, 
The  wretched  may,  unseen,  uncensur'd,  weep  ; 
And  forced  all  day  with  smiles*  to  hide  their  woe, 
Blest  night !  conceal'd  by  thee,  the  tears  may  flow, 
The  highest  luxury  the  tortured  heart  can  know. 


THE  CHOICE. 

X  ASK  no  more  than  just  to  be 

From  vice  and  folly  wholly  free ; 

To  have  a  competent  estate, 

Neither  too  small,  nor  yet  too  great  j 

Something  of  rent  and  taxes  clear, 

About  five  hundred  pounds  a  year. 

My  house,  though  small,  should  be  complete, 

Furnished,  not  elegant,  but  neat } 

One  little  room  should  sacred  be 

To  study,  solitude,  and  me. 

The  windows,  jessamine  should  shade. 

Nor  should  a  sound  the  ears  invade, 

Except  the  warblings  from  the  grove, 

Or  plaintive  inurm'rings  of  the  doye. 


t         I**         1 

Here  would  I  often  pass  the  day, 
Turn  o'er  the  page,  or  tune  the  Iayr 
And  court  the  aid  and  sacred  fire 
Of  the  Parnassiati  tuneful  choir. 
While  calmly  thus  my  time  I'd  spend, 
Grant  me,  kind  Heaven,  a  faithful  friend> 
In  each  emotion  of  "my  heart, 
Of  grief  or  joy,  to  bear  a  part ; 
Possess'd  of  learning,  and  good  sense, 
Free  from  pedantic  insolence. 
Pleas'd  with  retirement  let  him  be. 
Yet  cheerful,  midst  society ; 
IKnow  how  to  trifle  with  a  grace, 
Yet  grave  in  proper  time  and  place. 


Let  frugal  plenty  deck  my  board? 
So  that  its  surplus  may  afford 
Assistance  to  the  neighb'ring  poor, 
And  send  them  thankful  from  the  door. 


-  .[       139      3 

A  few  associates  I'd  select, 
Worthy  esteem  and  high  respect ; 
And  social  mirth  I  would  invite, 
With  sportive  dance  on  tiptoe  light ; 
Nor  should  sweet  music's  voice  be  mute, 
The  vocal  strain,  or  plaintive  lute  ; 
But  all,  and  each,  in  turn  agree, 
TJ  afford  life  sweet  variety ; 
To  keep  serene  the  cheerful  breast, 
And  give  to  solitude  a  zest. 


And  often  be  it  our  employ, 

For  there  is  not  a  purer  joy, 

To  wipe  the  languid  grief-swoln  eye, 

To  sooth  the  pensive  mourner's  sigh, 

To  calm  their  fears,  allay  their  griefj 

And  give,  if  possible,  relief, 


r     uo     i 

But  if  this  fate,  directing  Heaven 
Thinks  too  indulgent  to  be  given, 
Let  health  and  innocence  be  minej 
And  I  will  strive  not  to  repine  j 
Will  thankful  take  each  blessing  lenfy 
Be  humble,  patient,  and  content* 


ON   THE   DEATH  Of 

Miss  JULIANA  KNOX. 

PEACE  to  the  heart  that  mourns,  the  eye  that  weeps ; 

The  lovely  maiden  is  not  dead,  she  sleeps. 

Where  seraphs  minister  round  Jehovah's  throne, 

Her  unembodied,  spotless  soul  is  flown  ; 

And  kindred  angels  tuned  their  golden  lyres, 

Their  bosoms  glowing  with  celestial  fires, 

To  guide  her  through  the  doubtful,  gloomy  way, 

Sa,fe  to  the  realms  of  everlasting  day  ; 

Welcom'd  their  sister  to  the  house  of  rest, 

The  bright  eternal  mansions  of  the  blest: 

There  mixing  with  the  bright  celestial  train| 

Exulting,  she  will  join  the  adoring  strain, 

To  PIIM  who  was,  and  is, 

And  shall  forever  reign, 


C         142         1 

Oh,  mother  !  most  afflicted,  sure  if  e'er 

Maternal  love  was  Heaven's  peculiar  carej 

Thy  silent  tears,  thine  agonizing  sighs, 

Before  the  Great  Eternal  will  arise. 

Cease  then  thy  plaints  ;  look  up  with  faith  ;  behold* 

They  in  the  magic  volume  are  enrolFd; 

JRegister'd  in  the  awful  court  of  Heaven, 

Who  only  has  recall'd,  what  it  had  given. 

Religion,  smiling  as  she  marks  the  page, 

Cries,  *<  Let  this  hope  the  mother's  pangs  assuage  ; 

Though  the  unspotted  angels  went  before, 

The  hour  will  come  when  grief  shall  be  no  more  ; 

Then  shalt  thou  see  those  much  lov'd  forms  agai% 

And  join  with  them  in  the  adoring  strain, 

To  HIM  who  ivas)  and  is  ; 

And  shall  forever  reign, 


*  Mrs.  Knox  lost  four  children  ia  two  years;  two  of  whoa 
Were  grown  up. 


TO  A  YOUNG  LADY,  WHO  REQUESTED  THE 
AUTHOR  TO  WRITE  SOMETHING  ON  HER, 

JL  OU  bid  me  write  on  that  fair  face ; 

Well  pleas'd  I  take  the  theme  ; 
But  when  I  would  recount  each  grace, 

I'm  puzzled  in  th*  extreme. 


Flattery,  dear  ***,  I  cannot  bear  ; 

I  write,  and  speak,  the  truth ; 
I  know  you  good,  I  think  you  fair, 

Blest  with  the  charms  of  youth. 


But  yet  forgive  me,  if  I  say, 
Should  I  each  thought  aver, 


[          144         3 

None  are  so  good,  but  that  they  may. 
At  some  times,  greatly  err. 


Pardon  me,  when  these  lines  you  see, 

And  know  me  for  a  friend  ; 
Who  thinks,  whate'er  your  faults  may  be, 

You've  sense,  and  power,  to  mend. 


SIMILE. 

PASSION  is  like  the  base  narcotic  flower, 
That  flaunts  its  scarlet  bosom  to  the  day  ; 
And  when  exerting  its  nefarious  power, 

Benumbs  the  sense,  and  steals  the  strength  awar. 


In  the  gay  morn  attractive  to  the  eye, 
Its  thin  leaves  flutter  in  the  wanton  wind  ; 

But  ere  the  sun  declines,  t'will  fade  and  die, 
While  still  its  baleful  poison  lurks  behind. 


But  Love  !  pure  Love  !  the  human  soul  pervading, 
Is  like  the  musk-rose,  scenting  summer's  breath  i 

Is  charms,  when  budding  in  its  prime,  and  fading, 
Will  even  yield  a  rich  perfume  in  death. 

N 


FRIENDSHIP— AN  ALLECOR?, 

L.OVE,  as  'tis  said,  of  Beauty  tir'd, 

Of  course  no  longer  blind  ; 
Beheld,  and  ardently  admir'd, 

A  grave  plain  nymph,  called  MIND. 


lie  won  her  ;  from  this  marriage  sprung, 

As  poets  fondly  deem, 
A  little  rnaid^  whose  praise  they've  sung, 

Yclept  by  them  ESTEEM. 


REASON  admir'd,  in  early  youth, 

This  lovely  maiden's  charms  ; 
'Twas  REASON  woo'd  ;   she,  led  by  TRUTH, 

Soon  yielded  to  his  arms. 


[      ur      3 

A  beateous  child  their  union  blest, 
Of  most  etherial  make  : 

Of  neither  sex,  as  it  liked  best, 
It  either  form  could  take. 


It  had  its  fathers  piercing  eye, 
Its  mother's  ardent  soul ; 

Its  voice  affliction's  tear  could  dry, 
Or  passion's  rage  control. 


The  VIRTUES  triumph'd  in  its  birth  ; 

Even  WISDOM  smiling  came  ; 
Bade  it  descend  to  bless  the  earth, 

And  FRIENDSHIP  call'd  its  name. 


VIRGIL'S  10th  ECLOGUE. 

•  % 

JKxtremum  hunc>  drethusa,  miM,  &c.   fc 

•ALLOW  me,  Arethusa,  by  thy  stream 
To  tune  my  lyre,  and  chant  my  favorite  theme  5 
111  this  last  effort  a  slight  strain*  to  raise, 
And  to  my  CALLUS*  dedicate  the  lays. 


*  CALLUS,  a  great  friend  and  patron  of  VIRGIL,  and  an  excel 
lent  poet.  He  raised  himself  from  alow  station,  to  high  favour 
with  the  Emperor  Augustus.  He  was  deeply  in  love  with  a  la 
dy  whom  he  calls  LYCOIUS,  who  slighted  him  for  a  soldier, 
whom  she  had  followed  to  the  wars.  The  poet,  therefore, 'sup 
poses  GALLUS  retired  into  the  solitudes  of  Arcadia,  surrounded 
byJhe  rural  deities,  who  all  unite  in  pitying  his  misfortunes., 
aad  consoling  him  under  the  hard  usage  of  his  scornful  mistress. 


[          149         ] 

And  where>  my  CALLUS,  may  the  poet  be, 
Who  would  refuse  to  tune  his  lyre  for  thee  ? 
Oh  !  may  the  numbers  flow  so  soft,  so  clear, 
That  evenLvcoRis  herself  might  hear. 
So,  Arethusa,f  when  thy  chaste,  cold  tide, 
Shall  soft  beneath  Sicilian  billows  glide, 
May  green  hair'd  DoRisJ  from  thy  path  declint, 
Nor  ever  mix  her  bitter  waves  with  thine. 


Begin,  my  muse,  Whilst,  or  with  wanton  bound, 
Or  browsing  the  green  turf  my  kids  sport  round  ; 
Yet  not  for  them,  we  strike  th*  harmonic  string  ; 
5Tis  not  to  them  insensible  we  sing. 
Rehearsing  CALLUS'  unsuccessful  loves 
In  plaintive  numbers,  th'  umbrageous  groves 


f  Arethusa,  a  rircr  in  Sicily,  said  to  pass  many  miles 
the  sea,  with,  which  its  waters  never  mix. 
|  DORIS,  ajsea  nymph,  but  used  here  for  the  sea  itself. 
N  2 


t          150         ] 

Most  sweetly  shall  prolong  the  soothing  strains, 
And  E«ho  bear  them  to  the  neighbouring  plains, 


Ye  Nymps,  and  Naiades,  what  lawns,  what  bowers, 
Or  limpid  fountains  fring'd  with  sedge  and  flowers, 
Detain'd  ye  ?  whilst  beneath  Arcadian  skies, 
My  GALLUS  with  unheeded  passion  dies. 
On  *PindusJ  summit  did  ye  sportive  play  ? 
Or  in  Parnassus*  hallow'd  precincts  stray  ? 
Or  to  sweet  t Agganippe's  fount  resort, 
Where  the  nine  tuneful  sisters  hold  their  court  ? 

Ah  no,  ye  nymphs  I  sure  these  could  not  detain 

I 

Your  consolations  from  the  love-sick  swain. 


*  Pindus  and  Parnassus,  are  two  mountains  consecrated  to  the 
muses. 

|  Aggannippe,  a  fountain  wliich  springs  in  Pindus,  and  is  $om«« 
times  called  the  Aonian  spring1. 


[          151          3 

With  him  the  sacred  laurel  seemed  to  moan, 
And  the  green  tamarisk,  as  sad  alone, 
Beneath  Lycsan  cliffs  he  lay  reclin'd, 
And  breath'd  his  sorrows  to  the  passing  wind. 
Pine-crown'd  *Mcenalus  every  sigh  return'd, 
And  e'en  the  cold  rocks  melted  as  he  mourn'd. 


With  piteous  looks  stood  round  his  fleecy  care, 
And  seem'd  their  much  lov'd  master's  grief  to  share  ; 
Blush  not,  sweet  chanter  of  the  vocal  reed, 
Blush  not  that  thou  art  doom'd  a  flock  to  feed  ; 
t  ADONIS,  loveliest  of  Arcadia's  swains, 
Tended  his  sheep  upon  her  flow'ry  plains, 


*Moenalus  and  Lyccei,two  mountains  of  Arcadia,  the  owe  a- 
bounded  with  pines,  the  other  was  almost  continually  covered 
with  snow. 

t  ADONIS,  a  shepherd  boy, exceedingly  handsome,  and  bcloyetl 
by  VENUS, 


C          152          ] 

©r  led  them  by  the  fountain's  mossy  side, 

Or  where  through  meads  translucent  rivers  glide  ; 

Yet  CYTHEREA,  deck'd  in  all  her  charms, 

Descending,  xvooed  the  shepherd  to  her  arms. 

Left,  for  his  sake,  the  blissful  seats  above, 

His  heart  her  throne,  her  only  heav'n  his  love.  * 


The  shepherds  and  the  slow-pac'd  neatherds  came  ;  . 
All  mourn'd  my  GALLUS'  unsuccessful  flame  : 
To  soothe  his  grief,  MENALUS  near  him  drew, 
His  garments  dripping  with  autumnal  dew  ; 
Fring'd  round  the  skirts  with  gems  of  glittering  hoar, 
Loaded  with  acorns  for  his  winter  store. 
All,  all  enquire,  "  Can  nought  thy  grief  remove  ? 
Why  thus  pines  GALLUS  with  unheeded  love  ? 


APOLLO  self,  forsook  the  orient  skies, 

"  And  whence  this  folly  ?  whence  this  love  ?"  he  cries  ; 


I       15?       3 

*<  She,  even  LYCORIS,  that  haughty  fair, 

«  For  whom  you  waste  your  youth  in  pining  care, 

«  Flies  the  soft  shadows  of  Arcadia's  grove, 

"  O'er  snow  crown'd  hills  she  seeks  another  love, 

"  Nor  check'd  by  fear,  nor  scar'd  by  war's  alarms, 

K  Follows  through  camps,  and  horrid  scenes  of  arms, 


SYLVANUS  came  along  ;  where'er  he  treads, 
Pale  primroses,  and  snow-drops  rear  their  heads  ; 
About  his  waist  the  fragrant  musk-rose  blows, 
And  sumptuous  lilies  nod  upon  his  brows. 


PAN  came,  with  whom  the  rustic  fauns  advance, 
And  as  he  pipes,  lead  up  the  mazy  dance  j 
Whom  once  we  saw  by  nymphs  in  sportive  mood, 
Stained  with  the  bramble's  and  the  alder's  blood  ; 
«  And  is  there  nought,"  he  cries,  "  can  bring  relief  ? 
«  Does  GALLUS  set  no  limits  to  his  grief  ? 

. 


I         154         } 

«  Yhink'st  thou  that  love  regards  thy  tearful 

*  He  scorns  thy  sorrows,  and  he  mocks  thy  sighs  } 

"  When  thrifty  bees  are  sated  with  the  sweets, 

"  Which  in  the  granate's  fragrant  blossom  meets  j 

"  When  kids  are  sated  and  forsake  the  fields, 

"  Which  sweetest  shrubs  and  richest  pasture  yields-^ 

"  Then  cruel  love,  his  poison'd  arrows  spent, 

a  With  human  sufferings  will  be  content." 


But  mournful  he  replies,  «  Through  ev'ry 

*  Ye  shepherds  ye  shall  sing  my  hopeless  love  ; 

*  Ye  shepherds  who  in  fam'd  Arcadia  dwell, 
f<  Who  most  expert  can  tune  the  vocal  shell  ; 

*  Ah  then  !  each  sorrrow  of  my  soul  supprest, 

*  How  soft  beneath  your  turf  my  bones  shall  rest  j 
ft  So  may  your  strains  my  memory  prolong, 

«  So  be  my  love  recorded  in  your  song. 

*  But  oh  !  that  Heaven  in  an  humble  state, 

"  Fixing  my  lot,  like  thine  had  been  my  fate  £ 


e     155     ] 

"  Then  cheerful  rising,  I  each  morn  should  lead> 

"  My  lowing  herd,  to  pasture,  field  or  mead, 

w  Or  in  the  vineyard,  at  the  day's  decline , 

«  Pluck  the  ripe  clusters  from  the  pendant  vine  ; 

«  Then  sure  had  PHYLLIS  or  AMTNTAS  strove, 

M  To  catch  my  notice  and  obtain  my  love  ; 

"  With  me  they  might  repose  where  the  rich  vine, 

"  Luxuriant  round  the  pliant  willows  twine  ; 

*  PHYLLIS  with  chaplets  had  my  temples  drestj 

"  AMYNTAS  warbling  lulled  my  soul  to  rest. 

*'  What  though  we  cannot  call  AMYNTAS  fair, 

"  Nut  brown  her  skin,  and  jetty  black  her  hair, 

w  The  violet  of  soft  cerulian  blue, 

<•  Though  it  boast  not  the  lily's  spotless  hue, 

«  Sweet  to  the  scent  and  lovely  to  the  eye, 

K  Can  even  with  the  rich  carnation  vie  ; 

w  And  though  in  Ethiopian  tints  array 'd, 

«  The  luscious  berry  wears  a  dusky  shade, 

«  Pleasant  to  view  and  grateful  to  the  taste, 

"  It  yields  the  temp'rate  swan-  a  rich  repast. 


[          156         3 

«  Here,  my  lov'd  LYCORIS,  are  verdent  fields, 
«  And  here  at  noon,  the  grove  a  shelter  yields  ; 
«  Here,  where  the  cool  refreshing  fountains  play, 
<(  How  sweet  with  thee,  might  life  consume  away. 
u  But  love,  despairing  love,  detains  me  here, 
"  Where  cruel  MARS  erects  the  hostile  spear; 
"  Me  in  his  rigid  service  he  retains, 
«  Whilst  thou  art  distant  from  thy  native  plains  ; 
«  Oh  !  let  me  not  believe  it,  can  it  be, 
"'Thou'rt  willingly  so  far  from  love  and  me  ? 


"  And  dost  thou  climb  the  lofty  mountain's  brow, 

«  Render'd  tremendous  by  perpetual  snow  ; 

«  Or  where  the  Rhine's  cold  waves  forbade  to  pass, 

«  Seem  a  vast  field  of  highly  polished  glass  ? 

«  Ah  !  cruel,  whither,  whither  art  thou  gone  ? 

«  Why  would  thou  tempt  such  dang'rous  scenes  alone  ? 


[          157          } 

Oh  !  LYCORIS,  wherever  thou  may'st  be, 
May  the  cold  have  no  power  to  injure  thee  ; 
May  the  sharp  ice,  that  in  thy  path  may  lie, 
Melt  at  the  beaming  lustre  of  thine  eye  ; 
And  softening  as  you  pass,  may  you  not  meet, 
Aught  that  might  lacerate  thy  tender  feet. 


For  me,  I'll  seek  some  unfrequented  mead, 
And  tuning  the  Sicilian  Shepherd's  reed, 
In  elegiac  strains  my  sorrows  tell, 
In  strains,  such  as  *Euphorion  lov'd  so  well, 
For  rather  than  pursue  thee  thus  in  vain, 
Banished  foreyer  from  Arcadia's  plain, 
I'll  seek  the  desart,  hide  me  in  some  cell, 
Where  only  monsters  of  the  forest  dwell  j 


*  EUPHORION  a  Greek  poet,  whose  elegies  CALLUS  had  trans 
lated  into  Latin  verse. 
O 


C  153          1 

On  each  surrounding  tree  I'll  carve  thy  name3 
And  as  the  bark  extends,  so  grows  my  flame. 


Sometimes  perhaps  I'll  mingle  in  the  throng, ' 
Of  woodland  Nymphs,  join  in  their  dance  or  song  j 

Or  over  Maenalus,  with  hound  and  horn, 

\ 
Rouse  the  fierce  boar,  at  blush  of  early  morn. 

Nor  me  the  beating  tempest  shall  withhold, 
Nor  Borean  blasts,  nor  winter's  piercing  cold. 
Now  over  rocks  and  hills  I  seem  to  bound, 
Whilst  Echo  answers  to  the  deep  mouth'd  hound  : 
Now  with  unerring  hand  I  seem  to  throw, 
iCydonian  arrows  from  the  Parthian  bow ; 
As  if  I  thought  those  sylvan  sports  would  prove, 
(Mistaken  fool)  a  cure  for  hopeless  love  j 


f  Cydon  was  a  town  in  Crete,  whose  arrows  were  much  es 
teemed  ;  and  the  Pgitluans  were  famous  for  their  bows,  whieb 
were  made  of  horn. 


C          159          ] 

As  if  the  God,  who  throws  around  his  darts 
At  random,  lacerating  human  hearts, 
Our  sufferings  would  heed,  or  deign  to  show 
Compassion  for  unhappy  mortals'  woe. 


But  now  nor  woodland  Nymphs,  nor  chanter  clear. 
Nor  songs  repeated,  can  delight  mine  ear  ; 
Farewell,  ye  woods,  farewell,  ye  verdant  plains, 
And  flow'ry  lawns,  and  you,  ye  pitying  swains. 
From  you,  through  wilds  and  barren  wastes  I  range, 
But  nought  has  power  my  constant  heart  to  change. 
Not  the  benumbing  winter's  frigid  breath, 
Fatigue,  nor  misery,  nor  aught  but  death  ; 
Not  though  I  drank  of  *Hebrus*  icy  wave, 
Though  drenching  rains  my  weared  limbs  should  lave  ; 


*  Hebrus,  one  of  the  largest  rivers  in  Thrace  ;  its  waters  ar« 
remarkably  cold. 


E       lea       3 

Not  though  within  the  parching  torrid  zone, 
I  stray 'd  o'er  Ethiopia's  plains  alone, 
Where  Sol  from  Cancer  darts  his  burning  ray. 
And  on  the  trees  the  withering  rinds  decay  ; 
Nor  these,  nor  aught  my  constancy  can  move  ; 
Love  conquers  all,  and  we  must  yield  to  love." 


Ye  heavenly  sisters,  thus  your  poet  sung, 
Around,  the  echoing  hills  responsive  rung; 
He  sung,  whilst  busily  his  fingers  wove, 
Of  pliant  reeds,  a  basket  for  his  love. 
And  these  poor  lines,  ye  sacred  sisters,  make 
Welcome  to  GALLUS,  for  the  poet's  sake  ; 
To  GALLUS,  whom  each  rising  hour  shall  bring 
Encrease  of  love,  as  does  the  genial  spring, 
Which  bids  the  alder  shoot,  the  fields  look  gay, 
And  nature  wear  her  trimmest,  best  array  ; 
For  as  each  circling  hour  her  charms  improve, 
So  to  my  GALLUS  hourly  grows  my  love. 


t         161         3 

But  see  where  vesper,  glimmering  in  the  west 

Foretells  the  season  of  approaching  rest ; 

Arise  and  let  us  go  ;"  nocturnal  dews 

Are  most  unfriendly  to  the  vocal  muse. 

Even  where  the  juniper  her  branches  spread, 

The  evening  dews  unwholesome  vapours  shed  ; 

Even  noxious  to  the  fertile  fields  that  give, 

The  farinaceous  grain  by  which  we  live  ; 

Then  cease,  my  lay,  cease,  cease,  my  lyre,  to  mourn  ; 

Go  home,  my  flocks,  my  well  fed  kids  return. 


0:2 


32d  ODE  OF  HORACE,  1st  BOOK, 


si 


JM^ECENAS  bids,  then  come,  my  lyre> 
And  let  us  raise  as  sweet  a  song, 

As  did  the  *Lesbian  bard  inspire, 

Who  sang  of  BACCHUS,  gay  and  young  ; 

Who,  though  renown'd  in  feats  of  arms, 

Sang  CUPID'S  power,  and  VENUS'  charms. 


'Twas  he,  oh  lyre,  with  touch  divine, 

First  from  the  chords  drew  melting  strains  ; 

He  sang  the  muses,  tuneful  nine, 

And  tLycus,  glory  of  the  plains  ; 


*  ALCEUS,  a  Greek  poet,  who  lived  in  the  time  of  SAPPHO, 
f  Lvcus,  a  youth  beloved  by  HORACE. 


[          163          3 

LYCUS,  whose  jetty  locks  and  eyes, 
E'en  with  the  raven's  plumage  vies. 


M.&CENAS  bids,  then  lend  thy  power  ; 

If  e'er  with  art  I  touched  thy  strings, 
E'er  breathed  a  lay  which  might  endure, 

Now  aid  thy  Poet  whilst  he  sings  ; 
Now  teach  me  all  thy  magic  art, 
And  dictate  lines  to  touch  the  heart. 


Thou,  who  dost  grace  APOLLO'S  hand, 
Who  even  JOVE'S  repasts  improve, 

Whose  power  awakens  at  command 

Hope,  joy,  fear,  grief,  revenge,  or  love  5 

Be  ready,  at  thy  vot'ry's  pray'r, 

To  cheer  my  toils,  and  sooth  «ny  care. 


23d  ODE  OF  HORACE,  BOOK  3d. 

Ccelo  supinas  si  tuleris,  &c.  &c. 


simple,  rustic  dame, 
If  thou  hast  fann'd  the  sacred  flame, 
Hast  bade  the  smoke  of  incence  rise, 
Or  raised  thy  hands  toward  the  skies, 
When  the  chaste  queen  of  night,  new-born, 
Faintly  displays  her  silver  horn  ; 


If  thou  hast  offered  ripened  grain, 
But  lately  reap'd  from  off  the  plain, 
Hast  offered  fruits  that  might  suffice, 
T'  appease  the  household  deities  ; 
Invoked  their  aid  with  rites  divine, 
And  sacrificed  a  hungry  swine  ; 


[         165         ] 

If  -with  pure  hands,  and  heart  sincere, 
A  conscience  from  offences  clear  ; 
Then  shall  thy  pray'rs  accepted  be, 
Thy  flocks  and  fields  from  blight  be  free  ; 
The  gods  thy  industry  shall  bless, 
And  crown  thy  labours  with  success. 


Let  wealth  and  power  be  display 'd, 
By  pompous  gifts  on  altars  laid  ; 
Even  bread  and  salt,  if  freely  given, 
Are  more  acceptable  to  Heaven  ; 
And  the  best  sacrifice  assigned, 
Is  a  pure  heart  and  grateful  mind. 


17th  ODE  OF  HORACE,  2d  BOOK. 

Cur  me  guerelis  exanimaS)  fcfr.  &C* 


JN  O  !  my  MJ:CENAS,  no  I  the  gods  and  I 
Are  equally  averse,  that  thou  shouldst  die  ; 
My  best  support,  my  patron,  or  to  blend 
Every  dear  name  in  one,  my  honoured  friend, 
Cease  these  complaints,  it  cannot,  must  not  be, 
That  thou  shouldst  seek  Elysium  without  me. 


Alas  !  should  fate  the  hasty  mandate  give, 
And  my  soul's  better  part  should  cease  to  live ; 
Then  for  what  reason  should  I  tarry  here, 
Not  half  so  good,  nor  to  mankind  so  dear  ;' 
Nor  could  I  long  survive,  when  torn  from  thee  ; 
The  day,  which  takes  thee  hence,  will  ruin  me. 


C         ^7         1 

Have  I  not  sworn,  nor  will  I  break  my  oathr 
The  call  of  death  for  one  will  summon  both  ; 
When,  or  howe'er  thou  may'st  the  journey  make, 
I  am  resolv'd  its  perils  to  partake  ; 
We  will  together,  tread  the  gloomy  way, 
Together,  seek  the  realms  of  brighter  day. 


Though  to  appal  me,  fell  *CHIMERA  stands, 
Though  fGYAs  rise,  and  with  Ms  hundred  hands 
Oppose  my  passage,  nought  shall  have  the  pow'r 
To  tear  me  from  thee  in  that  dreadful  hour ; 


*  CHIMERA,  a  poetical  monster,  like  a  lion  in  the  fore  part, 
a  dragon  behind,  and  a  goat  in  the  middle.  It  was  also  the  name 
of  a  burning1  mountain  in  Lybia. 

•J-  GYAS,  a  fabulous  being-,  said  to  be  the  son  of  heaven  and 
earth  ;  he  is  represented  as  having  a  hundred  hands,  and  fifty 
headit 


£          168         ] 

In  life,  in  death,  resolv'dto  follow  thec, 
Justice  demands  it,  and  the  fates  decree. 


For  whether  Libra,  balance  of  the  earth, 
Or  the  fierce  scorpion  overruled  our  birth, 
Or  the  rude  tyrant  of  the  western  sea  ; 
Certain,  our  stars  most  strangely  do  agree ; 
JUPITER'S  guardian  glories  round  thee  shine, 
While  light-wing'd  MERCURY'S  protection's  mine. 


For  when  cold  SATURN  would  repress  thy  praise, 
Thy  planet  rules,  and  lo  !  the  people  raise 
Three  shouts  of  glad  applause  ;  and  when  on  me 
The  fatal  sisters  hurl'd  a  falling  tree, 
MERCURY,  watchful  patron  of  the  learn'd, 
Aside  by  FAUNUS*  hand  the  danger  turn'd. 


C       i«9       3 

Remember  therefore  to  the  Gods  an4  fate, 
Victims  to  burn,  and  temples  dedicate  ; 
For  thee,  the  smoke  of  hecatombs  shall  rise, 
But  for  thy  HORACE  one  poor  lamb  suffice. 


PART  OF  THE 

18th  ODE  OF  HORACE,  2d  BOOK. 

Non  ebur^  negus  aureumt  &c.  &c. 

1  HOUGH  on  the  ceilings  of  my  humble  home, 

Nor  fretted  gold,  nor  polish'd  iv'ry  glow  ; 
Nor  beams,  nor  columns,  here  support  the  dome, 
From  Afric's  forest,  or  *Hymettus'  brow. 


Nor  do  I  like  IATTALUS'  fraudful  heir, 

Another's  palace  seize,  his  rights  assume  ; 


*  Hymettus,a  mountain  in  Attica,famous  for  cedar  trees  andhoney, 
f  The  kingdom  of  ATTALUS,  king-  of  Pergamus,  was  seized 
by  one  ANDKONICUS,  who  pretended  he  was  descended  from 
the  royal  stock,  and  usurped  the  throne. 


I      in      3 

Nor  keep  as  slaves,  respected  matrons  there, 
To  fit  the  Spartan  purple  for  the  loom, 


But  mine  are  fair  sincerity  and  truth, 

While  genius  round  me  flits  in  wanton  sport 
Though  poor  and  humble,  many  noble  youth 

Sue  for  my  favour,  and  my  friendship  court, 


Nor  ask  I  more,  of  all-indulgent  Heaven, 

Nor  to  my  friend  for  greater  favours  press  j 

To  me  a  little  home  and  peace  are  given, 

And  CREOSUS'  wealth,  with  discontent;  were  less, 


31st  ODE  OF  HORACE,  1st  BOOK. 

Quid  dedication  fioscit,  &c,  &c. 

WHEN  at  APOLLO'S  sacred  shrine 

The  grape's  enlivening  juice  I  pour  ; 

While  on  the  pavement  streams  the  wine, 
What  asks  the  poet  of  the  power  ? 


the  rich  corn,  *Sardinia  yields, 

Nor  herds  that  range  fCalabria's  grove* 


*  Sardinia,  an  island  of  Italy,  famous  for  yielding  fine  grain, 
•f  Calabria,  a  country  in  Italy;  it  yield*  fruit  twice  a  year,  ani 

abounds  in  fine  cattle. 


t        173        1 

Nor  India's  gold,  nor  fertile  fields. 

Through  which  the  JLiris  silent  moves. 


Let  him,  to  whom  kind  fortune  gives 

To  pluck  ripe  clusters  from  the  vine  ; 

Who  in  gold  cups  the  juice  receives, 

And  quaffs  nectarious  draughts  af  wine  $ 


Let  him  whom  Heaten  surely  guards, 
Who  without  fear,  from  danger  free, 

Oft  spreads  the  sail  and  trims  the  yard% 
And  visits  the  Atlantic  sea, 


With  sickles  of  Calenian  make, 

Advance,  the  bending  vines  to  dress  ; 

|  Liras,  now  called  Gangliana,  a  river  in  Italy, 


And  his  rich  full  libations  take, 

New  streaming  from  Campania's  press 


Kequest  abundance  rich  and  rare, 

To  please  his  taste  and  grace  his  board 

Give  me  the  light  and  frugal  fare, 
The  vegetable  stores  afford. 


Give  me,  APOLLO,  strength  of  mind, 

And  health  to  taste  the  joys  I  have  ; 

Let  wreaths  the  hero's  temples  bind, 
The  meed  of  honesty  I  crave. 


Make  me  contented  with  my  lot ; 

And  still,  to  raise  my  pleasures  higher, 
Let  poetry  oft  grace  my  cot, 

And  music  strike  her  dulcet  lyre. 


THANKSGIVING. 

AUTUMN  receding,  throws  aside 

Her  robe  of  many  a  varied  dye  ; 
And  WINTER,  in  majestic  pride, 

Advances  in  the  low'ring  sky. 
The  lab'rer  in  his  granry  stores 

The  golden  sheaves  all  safe  from  spoil 
While  from  her  horn  gay  Plenty  pours 

Her  treasures  to  reward  his  toil, 
To  solemn  temples  let  us  now  repair,: 
And  bow  in  grateful  adoration  there  ; 
Bid  the  full  strain  m  hallelujahs  rise, 
To  waft  the  sacred  incense  to  the  skies. 


Now  the  hospitable  board 

Groans  beneath  the  rich  repast ; 


All  that  lux'ry  can  afford, 

Gratful  te  the  eye  or  taste  ; 
While  the  orchard's  sparkling  juice» 

And  the  vintage  join  their  powers  ; 
AH  that  nature  can  produce, 

Bounteous  Heav'n  bids  be  ours. 
Let  us  give  thanks  ;  yes,  yes,  be  sure, 
Send  for  the  widow  and  the  orphan  poor  ; 
Give  them  wherewith  to  purchase  clothes  and  food  3 
'Tis  the  best  way  to  prove  our  gratitude. 


On  the  hearth  high  flames  the  fire, 

Sparkling  tapers  lend  their  light ; 
Wit  and  genius  now  aspire 

On  Fancy's  gay'and  rapid  flight ; 
Now  the  viol's  sprightly  lay, 

As  the  moments  light  advance, 
Bids  us  revel,  sport,  and  play, 

liaise  the  song,  or  lead  the  dance. 


t     in     ] 

Come,  sportive  love,  and,  sacred  friendship, 

Help  us  to  celebrate  our  harvest-home ; 

In  vain  the  year  its  annual  tribute  pour% 

Unless  you  grace  the  scene?  and  lead  the  laugliing  hour*. 


SONG. 

WRITTEN  FOR  THE  CELEBRATION  OF  THE 
BIRTH  DAY  OF  GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  ESQ. 
AND  SUNG  ON  THAT  OCCASION,  itf  BOS 
TON,  FEBRUARY  llth,  1798. 

AlR .—AXACREON  IN  ff£A  VEN. 

VV  HEN  rising  from  ocean  Columbia  appeared, 

MINERVA  to  JOVE?  humbly  kneeling,  requested 
That  she,  as  its  patroness,  might  be  rever'd, 

And  the  pow'r  to  protect  it,  in  her  be  invested. 
JOVE  nodded  assent,  pleasure  glow'd  in  her  breastj 
As  rising,  the  goddess  :  her  will  thus  exprest 
"  The  sons  of  Columbia  forever  shall  be 
«  From  oppression  secure,  and  from  anarchy  free/' 


Rapture  flash'd  through  the  spheres  as  the  mandate 
vent  forth, 

When  MARS  and  APOLLO,  together  uniting, 
Cried,  Sister,  thy  sons  shall  be  fam'd  for  their  worth, 

Their  \visdom  in  peace,  and  their  valour  in  fighting  ; 
Besides,  from  among  them  a  chief  shall  arise, 
As  a  soldier,  or  statesman,  undaunted  and  wise  ; 
Who  would  shed  his  best  blood,  that  Columbia  might  be. 
From  oppression  secure,  and  from  anarchy  free. 


JOVE,  pleas'd  with  the  prospect,  majestic  arose, 

And  said,  "  By  ourself,  they  shall  not  be  neglected  ; 
"  But  ever  secure,  tho*  surrounded  by  foes, 

«;By  WASHINGTON  bravely  upheld  and  protected, 
M  And  while  Peace  and  Plenty  preside  o'er  their  plains, 
«  While  mem'ry  exists,  or  while  gratitude  reigns, 
"  His  name  ever  iov'd,  and  remember'd  shall  be, 
"  While  Columbians  remain  INDEPENDENT  and  FREE.* 


BALLAD. 

AN  the  full  bloom  of  youth,  hard,  alas  !  is  my  fate, 
And  tho*  gentle  my  heart,  its  afflictions  are  great  ; 
Contentment,  sweet  maid,  from  my  bosom  is  flown, 
For  HENRY  is  faithless,  and  I  am  undone. 
Ah  !  why  did  I  list  to  the  vows  that  he  made  ? 
But  she  who  loves  truly  may  soon  be  betray  *d  ; 
Come,  pity  my  sorrows,  ye  kind-hearted  fair, 
For  alas,  I  am  driven  almost  to  despair, 


In  a  lowly  rooPd  cot,  from  ambition  secure, 
I  dwelt  with  my  father  ;   alas,  he  was  poor  ; 
But  free  from  all  vice,  and  a  stranger  to  art. 
And  I  was  the  comfort,  and  joy  of  his  heart. 
Each  morning  as  blythe  as  the  wood  lark  I  rose, 
And  innocence  heigthened  the  sweets  of  repose> 


t         181         ] 

But  the  scene  is  now  chang'd  ;  grant  me  pity,  ye  fair, 
For  alas,  I  am  driven  almost  to  despair. 


Cold  and  bleak  was  the  night,  and  the  hour  it  was  late> 
When  wounded  and  faint,  HENRY  knock'd  at  our  gate  ; 
We  bound  up  his  wounds,  but,  alas,  the  return 
Was  to  rob  me  of  virtue,  and  leave  me  to  mourn. 
I  flew  to  my  father,  Oh,  pardon,  I  cried  ; 
He  heard  my  dishonour,  forgave  me,  and  died  : 
Oh  pity  my  sorrows,  ye  kind  hearted  fair, 
For  alas  !  I  am  driven  almost  to  despair. 


BALLAD. 

BENEATH  a  willow's  pendant  shade, 

ELINOR,  sad,  unhappy  fair, 
Inspir'd  by  music's  plaintive  aid, 

Thus  breath'd  her  sorrows  to  the  air 
Ah  me  !  I  feel  love's  poison'd  dart, 

In  vain  the  poison  would  repel, 
But  who  transfix'd  it  in  my  heart, 

I  cannot,  will  not,  dare  net  tell. 


When  bright  along  the  eastern  skies, 
The  morning  sheds  a  golden  beam, 

How  fervent  do  my  prayers  rise, 

Invoking  peace  and  health  for  him. 

The  village  maidens  speak  his  fame, 
He  does  all  other  youths  excel, 


[         183         3 

But  where  he  dwells,  or  what's  his  name, 
I  cannot,  will  not,  dare  not  tell. 


Zephyr,  as  you  with  the  cooling  air 

Light  around  his  temples  play, 
Soft  to  his  ear  these  tidings  bear  ; 

Whisp'ring  gently,  Zephyr,  say, 
Speak  in  the  language  of  a  sigh, 

How  much  I  love,  how  true,  how  Well 
But  should  he  ask  my  name,  reply, 

I  cannot,  will  not,  dare  not  tell* 


SONG. 

FRAGILE  sweets,  how  frail  ye  are, 

Snow-drop  pale,  and  vi'Ietblue  ; 
Beauty,  tho*  so  heav'nly  fair 

And  sweet,  may  be  compar'd  with  you. 
In  the  early  spring  ye  bloom, 

Making  April's  mantle  gay, 
But  robb'd  of  beauty  and  perfume, 

Fade  upon  the  robe  of  May, 


Lovely  Rose,  who,  queen  of  fiow'rs. 
Spring  and  summer  both  adorn  ; 

Hanging,  tempting,  round  our  bowers, 
Hiding  'neath  thy  charms  a  thorn. 

So  the  joys  of  youth  appear, 
Tempting  to  the  distant  view  r 


C        185        1 

Who  to  gather  them  draws  near, 
Finds  they  hide  a  thornlike  you, 


Myrtle,  beauteous  evergreen, 

Fair  thy  blossoms  to  the  view, 
Pure  as  snow  drops  are  they  seen, 

Fragrant  as  the  musk-rose  too. 
Friendship's  emblem  thou  shalt  be, 

In  thy  simple  charms  array'd, 
Cheer'd  by  sun-shine,  lovely  tree, 

Frost  alone  can  make  thee  fade. 


PARODY  ON  THE  MARSEILLES  HYMN, 

ADAPTED  FOR  THE  SONS  OP  COLUMBIA. 

COLUMBIA'S  Sons,  awake  to  glory, 
Your  Guardian  Genius  bids  you  rise  j 

Transmit  your  name  to  future  story, 
As  learned,  gen'rous,  brave  and  wise. 

Shall  pois'nous  reptiles,  mischief  brewing, 
With  cringing  knaves,  a  lawless  band, 
Spread  disaffection  through  the  land, 

While  mean  and  selfish  schemes  pursuing  ? 

To  yonder  vaulted  sky— our  solemn  vows  shall  flyv 
Firmly  to  oppose,  all  treacherous  foes- 
Live  free,  or  bravely  die. 


E'en  new  ihe  distant  thunders  rolling, 
Speak  the  angry  tempest  nigh  ; 


I      uf      3 

The  breath  of  demagogues  is  howling, 
Their  threat'nings  gleam  along  the  sky*. 

And  shall  we  tamely  hear  it  roaring, 

Th*  horizon  with  dark  clouds  overspread  \ 
While  Liberty,  with  drooping  head, 

See's  democratic  despots  soaring  ? 

To  yonder  vaulted  sky— our  solemn  vows  shall  flj> 
Firmly  to  oppose — all  treacherous  foe*— * 
Live  free,  or  bravely  die. 


LIBERTY,  thou  noblest  gift  of  Heatyn> 
Who  once  has  felt  thy  sacred  fire? 

Would  wish  to  live  of  thee  bereaven, 
Or  would  not  in  thy  cause  expire  ? 

Oh  I  may  thy  banners,  ever  glorious, 
O'er  blest  COLUMBIA  proudly  wave  j 
Her  children  spurn  the  name  of  slave, 

Over  insidious  friends  victorious  ; 


I         183         J 

To  yonder  vaulted  sky— our  solemn  vows  shall  fly, 
Firmly  to  oppose— all  treacherous  foes—* 
Live  free,  or  bravely  die. 


STORM  AT  SEA. 

LoURING  cloud  a  storm  presages, 
See  the  foaming  surges  rise  ; 

Hark  I  how  blust'ring  Boreas  rages  ; 
Threat'ning  waves  approach  the  skies. 


Lower  your  topsails,  boys,  be  ready  ; 

Strike  the  topmasts,  brace  the  yards  5 
Scud  before  it,  keep  her  steady  ; 

Who  this  little  gust  regards  ? 


Cheerly,  lads,  to  fear  a  stranger; 

Cut  away  the  splinter  Jd  mast  r 
Though  surrounded  thus  by  danger* 

Boys,,  it  blows  too  hard  to  last, 


£      190      5 

To  windward  see  the  clouds  dispersing, 
Now  it  lulls,  the  storm  is  o'er  ; 

How  pleasant,  when  the  tale  rehearsing, 
To  your  listening  friends  on  shore, 


To  tell,  how  friends  and  home  regretting, 
You  felt,  as  'fore  the  gale  she  drove ; 

Then  sink  to  rest,  each  care  forgetting, 
In  the  arms  of  faithful  love. 


SONG. 

INDEPENDENT  FARMER. 

WHEN  the  bonny  grey  morning  just  peeps  from  th< 

skies, 

And  the  lark  mounting,  tunes  her  sweet  lay  » 
With  a  mind  unincumbered  by  care  I  arise, 

My  spirits  light,  airy,  and  gay. 
I  take  up  my  gun  ;   honest  Tray,  my  good  friend, 

Wags  his  tail  and  jumps  sportively  round  ; 
To  the  woods  then  together  our  footsteps  we  bend, 

'Tis  there  health  and  pleasure  are  found. 
I  snuff  the  fresh  air  ;  bid  defiance  to  care, 

As  happy  as  mortal  can  be  ; 
"From  the  toils  of  the  great,  ambition  and  state, 
'Tis  my  pride  and  my  boast  to  be  free. 


I         192        1| 

At  noon,  I  delighted  to  range  o'er  the  soil, 

And  nature's  rough  children  regale  : 
With  a  cup  of  good  home'-brew'd  I  sweeten  their  toil, 

And  laugh  at  the  joke  or  the  tale. 
And  whether  the  ripe  waving  corn  I  behold, 

Or  the  innocent  flock  meet  my  sight ;  i 

Or  the  orchard,  whose  fruit  is  just  turning  to  gold? 

Still,  still  health  and  pleasure  unite. 
I  snuff  the  fresh  air  ;  bid  defiance  to  care, 

As  happy  as  mortal  can  be  ; 
From  the  toils  of  the  great,  ambition  and  state* 
'Tis  my  pride  and  my  boast  to  be  free. 


At  night  to  my  lowly  roof  d  cot  I  return, 
When  oh,  what  new  sources  of  bliss  ; 

My  children  rush  out,  while  their  little  hearts  burti* 
Each  striving  to  gain  the  first  kiss. 

My  Dolly  appears  with  a  smile  on  her  face, 
Good  humour  presides  at  our  board  ; 


[          193         ] 

What  more  than  health,  plenty,  good  humour,  and  peacfc- 

Can  the  wealth  of  the  Indies  afford  ? 
I  sink  into  rest,  with  content  in  my  breast, 

As  happy  a*  mortal  can  be ; 
From  the  toils  of  the  great,  ambition  and  state, 

'Tis  my  pride  and  my  boast  to  be  free. 


SONG. 

WHEN  far  from  freedom's  happy  court, 
Where  all  the  social  arts  resort, 
We  ploughed,  unaw'd,  the  roaring  main, 
Where  war  and  slaughter  held  their  reign, 

Then  Fame  her  trumpet  sounded  ; 

The  vault  of  Heaven  resounded  ; 

We  saw  her  banners  wave  on  high, 

And  rush*d  to  conquer  or  to  die  : 
Midst  smoak  and  fire,  and  groanings  dire 

Of  valiant  seamen  wounded. 


In  Freedom's  cause  to  yield  our  breath, 
We  brave  all  danger,  smile  at  death  ; 
Undaunted  we  her  foes  pursue, 
Though  fire  and  blood  impede  our  jievr. 


I          195         1 

When  fame  her  trumpet  sounded, 
Our  hearts  with  joy  rebounded  ; 
We  saw  her  coming  from  on  high? 
And  in  her  hand  came  victory. 
They  crowned  each  head,  and  e'en  the  dead, 
With  laurel  wreaths  surrounded, 


SONG. 

ORPHAN  NOSEGAT 


Vv  HO'LL  buy  a  nosegay  ?  cried  a  sweet  child, 

An  orphan  left  wretched  and  poor  ; 
Here's  roses,  and  pinks,  and  sweet  briar  wild  ; 

And  Heaven  will  bless  you  thrice  o'er." 
Do  pray  buy  my  roses,  indeed  they're  not  dear, 
Each  bud  shall  be  moistened  with  gratitude's  tear. 


Hard  I  hard  !  is  my  fate,  my  father  is  dead, 

He  fell  in  the  nation's  defence  ; 
Those  friends  who  once  courted  our  favour  are  fted, 

And  prov'd  all  their  friendship  pretence. 
Do  pray  buy  my  roses,  indeed  they're  not  dear, 
Each  bud  shall  be  moistened  with  gratitude's  tear. 

*  The  first  verse  is  the  same  as  the  original  son£. 


My  mother  was  by,  when  by  brave  father  fell ; 

The  bullet,  which  robbed  him  of  life, 
Sunk  deep  in  the  bosom  which  lov'd  him  so  well, 

And  murder'd  the  health  of  his  wife. 
Do  pray  buy  my  roses,  indeed  they're  not  dear, 
Each  bud  shall  be  moistened,  with  gratitude's  tear. 


Do  pray  buy  my  roses,  for  hard  is  my  fate  ;•. 

My  parents  to  heaven  are  fled ; 
Bestow  then  a  trifle  before  'tis  too  late, 

My  poor  little  sisters  want  bread. 
Do  pray  buy;  my  roses,  indeed  they're  not  dear, 
bud  shall  be  moistened  with  gratitude's  tear. 


SONG.* 

jL/RINK  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes, 
And  I  will  pledge  with  mine, 

Or  leave  a  kiss  within  the  cup, 
And  111  not  ask  for  wine." 


Those  joys,  which  from  the  soul  do  spring, 

The  tongue  can  ill  impart  j 
But  from  the  eye  may  dart  a  beam, 

To  penetrate  the  heart. 


Then  prythee,  Chloe,  strive  to  learn 

A  language  so  divine  j 
Speak  to  me  only  with  thirfe  eyes, 

And  I'll  reply  with  mine. 
This  first  verse  also  is  from  the  original  song. 


SONG. 

VV  HEN  hoarse  winds  roar,  and  lightnings  gleam, 

And  thunders  shake  the  spheres, 
We  shrink  affrighted  from  the  scene, 

And  trembling,  own  our  fears. 
But  Sol  breaks  forth,  serenely  bright, 

The  clouds  are  chas'd  away  ; 
With  double  joy  we  bless  the  light, 

And  hail  the  coming  day. 


So  my  poor  heart,  when  long  opprest 
With  heavy  weight  of  care, 

Sunk  cold  and  languid  in  my  breast, 
And  welcom'd  black  despair. 


C       200          3 

But  now  the  cherub,  Hope,  appears, 

The  clouds  before  her  fly  ; 
She  soothes  my  cares,  she  dries  my  tears> 

And  fills  my  heart  "with  joy; 


SONG. 

AMERICA,  COMMERCE  tf  FREEDOM. 

HOW  blest  a  life  a  sailor  leads, 

From  clime  to  clime  still  ranging  ; 
For  as  the  calm  the  storm  succeeds, 
The  scene  delights  by  changing. 
When  tempests  howl  along  the  main, 

Some  object  will  remind  us, 
And  cheer  with  hopes  to  meet  again 
Those  friends  we've  left  behind  us. 
Then  under  snug  sail,  we  laugh  at  the  gale, 

And  tho'  landsmen  look  pale?  never  heed  'em  j 
But  toss  off  a  glass,  to  a  favourite  lass, 
To  America,  Commerce,  and  Freedom. 


£         20*         1 

And  when  arrived  in  sight  of  land, 

Or  safe  in  port  rejoicing, 
Our  ship  we  moor,  our  sails  we  hand, 

Whilst  out  the  boat  Is  hoisting. 
With  eager  haste  the  shore  we  reach> 

Our  friends,  delighted,  greet  us  ; 
And,  tripping  lightly  o'er  the  beach, 

The  pretty  lasses  meet  us. 
When  the  full  flowing  bowl,  has  enliven'd  the 

To  foot  it  we  merrily  lead  'em, 
And  each  bonny  lass  will  drink  off  a  glass> 
To  America,  Commerce  and  Freedom. 


Our  cargo  sold,  the  chink  we  share,. 

And  gladly  we  receive  it  ; 
An'!  if  T/C  meet  a  brother  Tar, 

Who  '.var'.ts,  we  freely  ^ive  it. 
No  free  born  sailor  yet  had  store, 

But  cheerfully  would  lend  it  j 


t         203          ] 

And  when  'tis  gone,  to  sea  for  more, 

We  earn  it,  but  to  spend  it. 
Then  drink  round  my  boys,  'tis  the  first  of  our  joys. 

To  relieve  the  distress'd,  clothe  and  feed  'em ; 
JTis  a  task  which  we  share,  with  the  brave  and  the  fair, 
In  this  land  of  Commerce  and  Freedom. 


SONG. 

1HE  rose  just  bursting  into  bloom, 

AdmirM  where'er  'tis  seen, 
Dispenses  round  a  rich  perfume, 

The  garden's*  pride  and  queen  ; 
But  gathered  from  its  native  bed, 

No  longer  charms  the  eye  ; 
Its  vivid'tints  are  quickly  fled, 

'Twill  wither,  droop  and  die, 

I 

So  woman,  when  by  nature  drest 

In  charms  devoid  of  ait, 
Can  reign  sole  empress  in  each  breast, 

Can  triumph  o'er  each  heart ; 


[         305         1 

Can  bid  the  soul  to  virtue  rise, 
To  virtue  prompt  the  brave  ; 
But  sinks  oppress'd,  and  drooping 
If  once  she's  made  a  slave, 


SONG. 

WELCOME  is  the  morning  light, 

To  the  trav'ller  faint  and  weary  ; 
Or  the  rising  queen  of  night, 

Cheering  his  journey  long  and  dreary. 
But  far  more  welcome,  far  more  dear, 

Than  rising  moon,  or  op'ning  morning, 
Are  Friendship's  smile,  and  Pity's  tear, 

The  face  of  Truth  itself  adorning. 


Welcome  are  sweet  beds  of  flowers, 
Where  the  bees  collect  their  gains  ; 

Welcome  are  refreshing  showers, 

When  the  burning  dog  star  reigns. 

But  far  more  welcome,  far  more  dear, 

Than  rain  to  earth,  or  flower  to  bee, 


C      *or      3 

Are  Friendship's  smile,  and  Pity's  tear, 
When  beaming  on,  or  shed  for  me. 


Soothing  is  the  water  falling, 

To  the  sad  and  pensive  breast ; 
Gentle  is  the  ring  dove's  calling, 

To  his  partner  on  the  nest. 
But  far  more  soothing,  gentle,  dear, 

Than  ring  dove's  notes  or  purling  stream. 
Are  Friendship's  smile,  and  Pity's  tear, 

From  those  we  tenderly  esteem. 


MORAL  REFLECTION. 

DEE  down  the  stream  yon  painted  vessel  glide, 
Borne  on  alike  by  prosp'rous  wind  and  tide  ; 
Whilst  on  the  deck  her  giddy  inmates  stand 
Unheeding  they're  so  near  the  destin'd  land  ; 
When  told  that  they  can  linger  there  no  more. 
Unwilling,  trembling,  try  an  unknown  shore. 


But  mark  yon  bark  upon  the  angry  waves, 
Whose  fury  the  experienced  pilot  braves  ; 
And  the  poor  weary  passenger  to  cheer, 
Points  to  the  rugged  coast  which  they  draw  near ; 
Safe  in  the  haven,  on  the  destin'd  shore 
They  find  repose  j  nor  wish  to  wander  more., 


f         209         ] 

So  'tis  with  life  ;  who  pass  down  the  flood, 
Fortune  and  pleasure  filling  ev'ry  sail ; 

Here  fix  their  heart,  here  seek  their  only  good, 
And  dread  the  hour  when  all  those  joys  must  fail  j 

While  they  who  buffet  with  misfortune's  wave, 

Extend  their  hopes  of  peace  beyond  the  grave. 


THE  LITTLE  SAILOR  BOY. 

1  HE  sea  was  calm,  the  sky  serene, 

And  gently  blew  the  western  gale  ; 
When  ANNA,  seated  on  a  cliff, 

Watch'd  the  Lovina's  less'ning  sail. 
To  Heaven  she  thus  her  pray'rs  addressd, 

«  Thou  who  canst  save,  or  canst  destroy, 
From  each  surrounding  danger  guard 

My  much  lov'd  little  Sailor  Boy. 


"When  tempests  o'er  the  ocean  howl, 
And  even  sailors  shrink  with  dread, 

Be  some  protecting  angel  near, 

To  hover  round  my  WILLIAM'S  head  : 

He  was  belov'd  by  all  the  plain, 

His  lather's  pride,  his  mother's  joy  ; 


[         211          ] 

Then  safely  to  their  arms  restore, 
Their  much  lov'd  little  Sailor  Boy, 


"  May  no  rude  foe  his  course  impede, 

Conduct  him  safely  o'er  the  waves  ; 
O  may  he  never  be  compelled 

To  yield  to  pow'r,  or  mix  with  slaves. 
May  smiling  peace  his  steps  attend, 

Each  rising  hour  be  crown'd  with  joy, 
As  blest  as  that,  when  I  again 

Shall  meet  my  much  lov'd  Sailor  Boy." 


TRUXTON's  VICTORY. 

VV  HEN  Freedom,  fair  Freedom  her  banner  displayed, 
Defying  each  foe  whom  her  rights  would  invade, 
Columbia's  brave  sons  swore  those  rights  to  maintain, 
And  o'er  ocean  and  earth  to  establish  her  reign. 

United  they  cry, 

While  that  standard  shall  fly, 

Resolv'd,  firm  and  steady, 

We  always  are  ready 
To  fight  and  to  conquer  ;  to  conquer  or  die. 


Tho'  GALLIA  through  Europe  has  rush'd  like  a  flood, 
And  delug'd  the  earth  with  an  ocean  of  blood  ; 
While  by  faction  she's  led,  while  she's  govern'd  by  knave s, 
\Ve  court  not  her  smiles,  and  will  ne'er  be  her  slaves  : 


I      *is      i 

Her  threats  we  defy, 
While  our  standard  shall  fly  ; 
Resolv'd,  firm  and  steadyi 
We  slways  are  ready 
To  fight  and  to  conquer ;  to  conquer  or  die, 


Tho'  FRANCE  with  caprice  dares  our  STATESMEN  upbraidj 
A  tribute  demands,  or  sets  bounds  to  our  trade  ; 
From  our  young  rising  NAVY  our  thunders  shall  roar, 
And  our  Commerce  extend  to  the  earth's  utmost  shore. 

Our  cannon  we'll  ply, 

While  our  standard  shall  fly  ; 

Resolv'd,  firm  and  steady, 

We  always  are  ready 
To  fight  and  to  conquer  j"  to  conquer  or  die, 


To  know  we're  resolv'd,  let  them  think  on  the  hour, 
WlienTRUXTON,  BRAVE  TRUXTON  ofFNrwtt  shore, 


L        21*         1 

His  ship  mann'd  for  battle,  the  standard  unfurFd, 
And  at  the  INSURGENTS  defiance  he  hurl'd  : 
And  his  valiant  Tars  cry, 
While  our  standard  shall  fly, 
Resolv'd,  firm  and  steady, 
We  always  are  ready 
To  fight  and  to  conquer  ;  to  conquer  or  die. 


Each  heart  beat  exulting,  inspir'd  by  the  cause  ; 
They  fought  for  their  country,  their  freedom  and  laws  : 
From  their  cannon  loud  vollies  of  vengeance  they  pour'4, 
And  the  standard  of  France  to  Columbia  was  lowered. 

Huzza  I  they  now  cry, 

Let  the  Eagle  wave  high ; 

Resolv'd,  firm  and  steady, 

We  always  are  ready 
To  fight  and  to  conquer  j  to  conquer  or  die. 


Then  raise  high  the  strain,  pay  the  tribute  that's  due 
To  the  fair  CONSTELLATION, and  all  her  drove  Crew  t 
Be  TRUXTON  rever'd,  and  his  name  be  enroll'd 
'Mongst  the  Chiefs  of  the  Ocean,  the  Heroes  of  old. 

Each  invader  defy, 

While  sush  heroes  are  nigh. 

Who  always  are  ready, 

Resolv'd,  firm  and  steady, 
To  fight  and  to  conquer  j  to  conquer  or  die, 


KISS  THE  BRIM,  AND  BID  IT  PASS. 

Vv  HEN  Columbia's  shores  receding, 

Lessen  to  the  gazing  eye  ; 
Cape  nor  island  intervening, 

Break  th*  expanse  of  sea  and  sky  ; 
When  the  evening  shades  descending, 

Shed  a  softness  o'er  the  mind, 
When  the  yawning  heart  will  wander, 

To  the  circle  left  behind  ; 

Ah,  then  to  friendship  fill  the  glass, 
Kiss  the  brim  and  bid  it  pass. 


When  the  social  board  surrounding, 
At  the  evening's  slight  repast, 

Often  will  our  bosoms  tremble, 
As  we  listen  to  the  blast ; 


C      sir      j 

Gazing  on  the  moon's  pale  lustre, 
Fervent  shall  our  pray'rs  arise, 
For  thy.  peace,  thy  health,  thy  safety, 
To  him  who  form'd  the  skies  ; 

To  friendship  oft  we'll  fill  the  glass. 
Kiss  the  brim  and  bid  it  pass. 


When  in  India's  sultry  climate, 

Mid  the  burning  torrid  zone, 
Will  not  oft  thy  Fancy  wander 

From  her  bowers  to  thy  own  ? 
When  her  richest  fruits  partaking, 

Thy  unvitiated  taste 
Oft  shall  sigh  for  dear  Columbia, 

And  her  frugal  neat  repast ; 

Ah,  then  to  Friendship  fill  the  glass, 
X.iss  the  brim  and  bid  it  pass, 


C        218         } 

When  the  gentle  eastern  breezes 

Fill  the  home-bound  vessel' 
Undulating  soft  the  ocean, 

Oh,  propitious  be  the  gales ; 
Then  when  ev'ry  danger's  over, 

Rapture  shall  each  heart  expand  ; 
Tears  of  unmix'd  joy  shall  bid  thee 

Welcome  to  thy  native  land  ; 

To  friendship  then  we'll  fill  the  glass, 
Kiss  the  brim  and  bid  it  pass. 


PLEASURE. 

\VniLST  others  mourn  the  woes  of  human  kind, 
And  conjure  phantoms  up,  to  fright  the  mind  ; 
Dwell  on  each  trifling  ill,  till  it  appear 
A  load  too  vast,  too  multiplied  to  bear  ; 
Spread  round  dark  Melancholy's  sombre  veil ; 

With  lengthen'd  visage,  tell  so  sad  a  tale, 

The  sad  heart  sickens,  tears  bedim  the  eye, 

And  closed  is  ev'ry  avenue  to  joy ; 

PLEASURE'S  my  theme,  nor  could  the  sportive  musa 

A  theme  more  varied  or  diffusive  choose. 


Oh  !  Nymph  forever  courted,  young  and  fair, 
Where  is  thy  dwelling  place  ?  earth,  sea,  or  air  ? 
So  changeable  thy  form,  and  thou  art  found 
In  such  incongruous  scenes  ;  thy  robes  unbound, 


[         220         ] 

Thy  tresses  floating  in  the  wanton  wind, 

One  hand  half  open,  one  concealed  behind, 

Smiling,  deluding  us  of  care  and  sorrow, 

With  flattering  promises  of  joy  to-morrow ;     - 

To  thee  no  fix'd  abode  can  be  assign'd  ; 

But  come,  gay  Nymph,  for  once  possess  my  mind. 


I  see  thee,  even  now  ;   on  yonder  green, 

Within  that  ring  of  sportive  boys  thou'rt  seen  j 

.And  now  behold  thee  on  the  kite  arise, 

Or  the  swift  foot-ball  follow  as  it  flies ; 

Now  in  that  bag,  crowded  with  marbles  found  ; 

Now  on  that  top,  spinning  along  the  ground. 

Yes,  and  full  oft,  upon  a  winter's  day, 

When  frost  and  glittering  gems  made  all  things  gay, 

I've  seen  the  buckle  on  the  stripling's  skates, 

Who  vaunts  his  skill,  above  his  fearful  mates, 

And  as  in  graceful  circles  round  he  wheels, 

Laughs,  if  the  ice  betrays  his  comrades'  heels. 


[         221         ] 

Pve  seen  thee  drag  up  hill  the  urchin's  sled  , 
Who  with  rapidity,  devoid  of  dread, 
Rushes  impetuous  down  ;  again  thou'st  stood 
Upon  the  margin  of  the  glassy  flood, 
Amongst  a  pigmy  group,  who,  half  afraid,' 
Launched  forth  their  little  bark  of  shingle  made  ; 
With  skewer  for  mast,  for  rigging  slender  thread, 

• 

Its  sails  of  small  white  rags,  so  trimly  spread, 
That  as  it  floated  down  the  placid  stream, 
They  clapped  their  infant  hands  in  joy  extreme. 


And  now  thou  com'st  with  such  bewitching  grace, 
So  blythe  a  mien,  and  such  a  smiling  face, 
Thou  canst  delight  to  age  itself  recall,  •"> 

What  brought  thee  hither  ?  ah  !  that  waxen  doll,  { 
Those  cups  and  saucers,  tea  urn,  spoons,  and  all  ;  j' 
That  nice  buffet,  those  treasures  safe  to  keep, 
That  bed  and  curtains,  where  the  doll  shall  sleep. 
Now  thou  reposest  in  that  easy  chair, 

Thy  matron  brow  shaded  with  silver  hair, 
T  2 


[         222         ] 

Thy  mild  eye  beaming  with  delight  and  pride, 
On  the  lov'd  prattler  sporting  by  thy  side  ; 
Yet  though  I  see  thee  plain,  'tis  hard  to  tell, 
With  which  of  these  two  beings  thou  dost  dwell ; 
Whether  the  donor  of  the  charming  toys, 
Or  her  sweet  grandchild,  feels  the  purest  joys. 


Where  art  thou  fitting  now,  bright  phantom  ?  say, 

Is  it  to  yonder  group  so  neat,  so  gay, 

Who  with  light  heart,  and  sportive  bound  advance, 

And  to  the  sprightly  viol  lead  the  dance  ? 

Yes  !  yes  !  thou  beam'st  from  that  blue  laughing  eye, 

Thou  mak'st  that  little  heart  beat  high  with  joy, 

Thou  reign'st  triumphant  in  the  festive  scene, 

Where  all  is  cheerful,  innocent,  serene  ; 

Where  she  is  happy  who  is  best  attir'd, 

Yet  happier  she,  who  is  the  most  admir'd  ; 

But  happiest,  of  the  happy,  she  confest, 

Where  all  dance  well,  the  gracefullest  and  best. 


[         223         ] 

But  now  the  scene  is  chang'd,  and  thou  dost  pass, 
To  that  fair  creature,  who  before  the  glass, 
Ties  on  her  neat  chip  hat,  adjusts  her  hair, 
And  pins  her  kerchief  with  the  nicest  care, 
Ah !  hasten,  fair  one,  for  across  the  plain, 
Advances  eagerly,  thy  fav'rite  swain  ; 
And  now  how  swiftly  light-wing'd  PLEASURE  flies, 
To  greet  the  youth,  peeps  from  his  speaking  eyes  ; 
Returns  toward  the  nymph,  to  quit  her  loath  ; 
They  meet,  and  PLEASURE  dwells  alike  with  both, 


And  now  thou  hovercst  round  a  sacred  fane, 
Weaving  of  half  blown  roses  a  soft  chain ; 
While  from  a  torch  a  lambent  flame  ascends, 
Twines  round  the  chaplet,  with  the  roses  blends, 
A  youth  in  saffron  garments  fans  the  fire, 
And  as  it  burns,  their  sweets,  their  tints  are  higher  j 
They  seem  to  glow  with  amaranthine  bloom, 
And  shed  around,  a  fragrant,  rich  perfume, 


Oh  PLEASURE  !  heavenly  visionv  linger  here ; 
Spread  thy  white  pinions,  let  no  foe  come  near  : 
Let  not  pale  anguish,  with  o'erflowing  eye, 
Quench  the  bright  flame,  or  cause  the  flow'rs  to  die 
Call  Truth,  and  Love,  and  Honour  to  thy  aid, 
So  shall  the  flame  still  burn,  the  flow'rs  ne'er  fade  ; 
Thy  cheering  presence  gild  each  rising  day, 
And  but  with  life  itself  pass  quite  away. 


Now  thou  art  passing  through  that  prison  gate  ; 
Now  on  that  sick  and  suffering  wretch  await ; 
Yes,  it  is  thou,  dear  PLEASURE,  that  dost  glide, 
In  humble  guise,  still  by  the  good  man's  side  ; 
Raising  the  widow,  and  with  giant  arm 
Defending  the  unfriended  child  from  harm ; 
Clothing  the  naked,  giving  thy  own  bread, 
That  thy  poor  suffering  brethren  may  be  fed  ; 
Healing  the  broken  heart,  and  making  dry 
The  sorrow-furrow'd  cheek,  and  swollen  eye. 


[      MS      3 

Oh  PLEASURE  !  Beauty's  self  did  never  wear 

A  form  so  bright,  so  exquisitely  fair, 

As  thou,  with  glowing  cheek,  and  humid  eye, 

Soothing  ths  sorrows  of  humanity. 

Blest  is  the  bosom  where  thou  dost  preside ; 

Blest  is  the  liberal  hand  which  thou  dost  guide  j 

And  like  a  living  spring,  thy  path  is  seen, 

Strewed  with  fresh  flowers,  and  verdure  ever  green. 


Within  the  circle  round  yon  blazing  hearth, 

Defying  spleen,  excluding  noisy  mirth, 

f 

With  eye  serenely  mild,  but  yet  from  whence 
Beams  genius,  learning,  wit,  intelligence, 
I  see  thee  seated,  and  with  fond  delight) 
Forgetful  of  the  hour  of  waning  night, 
Trace  past  events  of  sorrow  or  of  joy, 
Turn  the  historic  page,  or,  sweet  employ, 
Read  Nature's  wondrous  volume,  and  then  raise 
To  Nature's  GOD  the  look,  thought,  voice  of  praise, 


[         956         ] 

Heart,  springing  forth  to  heart,  in  sympathy, 
Expressive  silence  speaking  from  the  eye, 
Love  in  the  bosom,  like  empyrean  flame, 
So  pure,  saints  might  partake  it  without  blame  j 
PLEASURE,  if  on  this  globe  thou  canst  be  found, 
*Tis  when  thou  art  by  sacred  friendship  crown'd  ; 
Thee,  the  base  slaves  of  passion  never  knew, 
Thou  minglest  not  with  the  unholy  crew  ; 
But  sometimes,  a  foretaste  of  heav'ns  delight, 
Thou  sufFerest  love  and  friendship  to  unite, 
Reason  and  virtue  the  sweet  incense  blend, 
And  honour  bid  the  hallow'd  flame  ascend 
On  soaring  wing,  and  still  aspiring  rise, 
Bright,  purified,  to  its  own  native  skies* 


Where  go'st  thou  now  ?  with  that  mild  placid  mein, 
PLEASURE,  dost  thou  attend  that  death  bed  scene  ? 
Ah  yes  !  I  see  thee  mitigate  each  pain, 
And  while  the  dying  man  hears  hope  is  vain, 


t        227        3 

Thy  words,  thy  looks,  his  anxious  thoughts  control. 
And  whisper  peace,  and  pardon,  to  his  soul.      • 
I  know  thee  ;  every  where  thou  art  the  same  :  , 

PL&AbUKii,  Kfcuuiu'N  i»  thy  real  immt. 

To  smooth  the  rugged  part  of  life  thou'rt  given, 

Cheer  the  dark  vale  of  death,  and  lead  to  heaven. 

In  youth,  in  manhood's  prime,  in  life's  decline, 

RELIGION,  all  our  real  joys  are  thine ; 

By  reason's  powerful  rein,  restraining  sense, 

Giving  delight  a  zest,  by  innocence  j 

O'er  every  scene,  throwing  thy  magic  charm  j 

In  every  ill,  lending  thy  powerful  arm. 

Who  seeks  for  PLEASURE,  leaving  thee  behind, 

Pursues  a  shadow,  courses  the  fleet  wind  ; 

But  led  by  thee,  no  care  his  soul  annoys, 

No  fears  depress,  no  doubt  his  peace  destroys ; 

'Tis  thou  encreasest  every  joy  we  taste, 

Mak'st  Eden  bloom  amidst  a  barren  waste, 

And  waft'st  the  soul,  releas'd  from  grief  and  pain, 

To  realms  where  PLEASURE  holds  immortal  reig*, 


